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bigwishes · 2 months

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Embarrassed?

Tom sat there staring down at his phone, typing like his life depended on it.

"if this is true I will literally trade anything to get bigger, you can make me a dumb jock, make my dick small, Ill even take being a walking joke, you can take anything you like so long as I can get huge!"

He had stumbled upon a site called "give'n'take" which was claiming that it would allow him to trade something he currently has for something he wanted. He had seen claims from guys claiming to of turned into their dream self over night by giving up something that they never really liked about themselves anyway.

But it was Hard for Tom to pick something he wanted to give up, he had almost won the genetic lottery in his eyes. A fat nine inches down stairs, 6.5ft tall, a good amount of body hair, not enough to be annoying but enough to drive guys wild. Everything had made him a walking stud that oozed confidence with every step. All but one thing that is. Tom had loved bodybuilding ever since he could remember, he loved the look of huge guys and he loved the idea of being one, but on his 23rd birthday he looked in the mirror and saw after years of work he looked nothing like a bodybuilder. sure he had some size but there was no real mass. He just looked like a guy who played sport on the weekend. He wanted to be so much bigger. He got hard imagining himself being the guy who had to turn sideways to get through a door or who rocked up to a house party in gym shorts and an XXL stringer tank top that clung to him like it was about to snap. Unfortunately his height was against him, his long muscle fibers took ages to develop and when they did it was so evenly spread out it didn't look like he had done anything at all.

He'd do anything to be bigger, he'd be happy with anything taken away so long as he was huge. So he left the choice up to the people behind the screen.

---

The next morning Tom woke up and instantly felt strange, he felt off balance some how like his body had gone up 30 pounds over night and when he got up and looked in the mirror he realised...it had.

"HOLY SHIT" Tom yelled out into his empty apartment.

His body had beefed up and become more defined without any more work. He couldn't worship himself for long though as he instantly began investigating to see what had been taken, but it didn't appear like anything was missing at all.

He was still packing, he hadn't shrunk in fact he might of even gained an inch or two and he didn't have any issues remembering anything from his engineering degree or any day to day stuff. The thought crossed his mind that maybe they had forgotten to take something, or maybe because he wanted to be big so badly they cut him a break.

Tom's worries melted away as he smiled and flexed his newly enhanced biceps.

"mmm, not as huge as I was hoping for but I'll keep working on it"

Tom picked up his gym bag and decided to head out to see what his new size could do, and to stick to the habit, he didn't want all this new size to make him forget to work out and end up losing it all in a few months.

Tom arrived at the gym and changed into his workout gear but he looked and felt different was he...bigger? nah, he thought to himself, its just him getting used to being this big although as he stared at his new size in his reflection a new thought entered his mind.

"Maybe this tank top is too tight...I probably shouldn't be such a show off and buy some looser clothes to cover up"

He shook his head and decided to think about it when he got home, right now he just wanted to see how strong he had gotten.

As Tom worked out something weird was happening, he knew how to exhaust his muscle, he new how to overload the weight and really make it feel like work but as he added weight with each set it felt just as easy as the last.

He'd occasionally see his reflection in the mirror wall and he looked like he was getting even bigger, and his tank top felt even tighter than before. Surely it was just the pump he thought to himself as he continued to lift and push his body.

He sat down at the cable row and put the pin almost at the bottom of all the plates, surely this would be a struggle for him. Tom leant back and pulled when suddenly.

Cutcshhhhhhh!

the sound of ripping fabric rung out in his ear as he felt the shoulder strap snap and felt the fabric split across his back.

"aw shit" Tom said as he stood up and took of his shirt.

Immediately he saw his reflection in the mirror, he looked huge. His muscles bulging he couldn't help but pull his gym shorts up and flex, this is what he wanted to be an absolute tank...

but, everyone probably thought he was a dickhead flexing outside of the changing room, he thought to himself. He started to wonder if he was that guy now, the guy who'd workout shirtless and annoy everyone in the gym.

He noticed a few dudes looking at him like they were waiting to get on the machine. His face turned a slight pink on his cheeks and he was flushed with embarrassment.

"oh s-sorry" Tom stuttered as he quickly tried to move out the way

Originally he thought he'd just move on to the next exercise but he realised he was shirtless and bolted for the changing room. Once inside he gazed at his reflection again.

"maybe...I shoulda asked to be just a little smaller, fuck now I gotta walk outta here shirtless"

Tom couldn't get a grip and didn't no what had come over him. He had never felt a shred of embarrassment in his life but now he was worried what people would think about him being shirtless in the gym.

The changing room was empty and Tom took the time for a few more poses before he was gonna make a run for the exit. He flexed his arms as hard as he could and felt the blood rushing into the muscle, but it was strange, the muscle wasn't just pumped up, it was like it was still pumping up. He tilted his head and watch in the mirror, slowly but surely his shoulders and arms were expanding, his chest was filling with mass and size. He saw his already huge legs slowly expanding out into colossal pillars as they stretched his shorts. He could hear the fabric starting to strain and quickly bend down to get his gym bag.

The moment he leant over he heard the changing room echo with a large tearing sound as he felt the tightness relieve across his ass. Tom's face turned bright red as he quickly reaches around to make sure it was just the shorts he had split and not his underwear.

He let out a sigh of relief as he felt his underwear was still in tact, he stood up and took a step hearing has his massive thighs tore and split his shorts with just one step. He was almost at the door when he saw his hulking figure in the mirror.

He stood frozen admiring his huge body, he flexed his entire body at once loving how huge he had become, he noticed his underwear was straining and the fabric was starting to become see through and then he remembered....he had to walk through the gym like this to get out....

A wave of embarrassment washed over him, everyone was gonna be staring at him

Tom quickly grabbed his bag and made a break for it through the busy gym. He had hoped to run but his body was so big that was almost an impossible task, so jogging was next but even just a slight jog left him out of breath and gasping for air. By the time he reached the door he had multiple people staring at him confused as he was huffing and puffing like he had just run a marathon.

He swung open the door to the gym and bumped between two guys that were on their way in. Tom tried to apologise but the only noises that came out were him gasping for air and trying to catch his breath. He flashed a quick apology wave as he climbed into his car which was luckily parked right in front of the entrance.

Tom looked down trying to slow his breathing and catch his breath when he noticed his huge hard on. His dick was like steel, the thought of everyone staring at him....judging him....

Tom started his car trying to ignore it but he heard the two guys he had just bumped into talking, muffled by his window.

"bro did you see that guy, there is just a thing as too big"

Hearing those worse Tom felt a swirl of shame and embarrassment swell in his stomach and work its way to his pelvis as he started taking deep and slow breaths.

"I know right dude, and the way he was so out of breath just walking through the gym, and working out in his underwear? what a loser"

the two men walking into the gym laughing as the door shut behind them

The words echoed in Tom's ears, he couldn't help it, he gripped his steering wheel so tight he thought he was going to break it, he bit his lip and closed his eyes as his dick began to twitch and erupt. Tom let out a pathetic moan as he looked down to see not just his underwear soaked but his car seat and thighs caked in cum.

Tom looked into his rear view mirror, his head, traps and shoulders completely blocking the view, his face was flush as he felt more embarrassed than ever before in his life, He started his car and quickly reversed out.

"god...I'm such..."

His dick instantly got hard again.

"fuck, I'm so big....I'm...too big"

Tom started panting as he drove out of the parking lot.

"I'm a fucking big, freakish, loserrrr--eerruuuuughh!!"

Tom couldn't help unload himself into his underwear and over his car seat thinking about how pathetic he was...

Well...he did say he was happy for them to take anything, His confidence seemed like a fair price.

#male transformation #muscle #muscle transformation #male tf #tf story #transformation

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rboooks · 1 year

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Alfred's Boy: Part 2

Bruce felt his blood pressure rise as Damian shoved another pair of swimming trucks into his cart. His youngest insisted that he needed something flattering, as his previous outfit was "functional but not attractive to the youth of today."

Damian had never cared that he wasn't up to the trends, but that was before Danny moved into the manor. Now he had to wait hours for Damian to find a satisfying outfit, knowing darn well its only because Danny mentioned he was interested in taking a dip in the inner pool.

The boy, technically being staff, felt it was essential to ask permission before taking a swim. Bruce had spent years telling Alfred he had free range over the manor, only to always have the man ask before doing anything. He hopes Danny won't develop the same habit.

He wanted the young man to feel at home with them.

His younger children- who honest to God forgot they even had a pool- had all scrambled to go swimming with Danny. Tim had practically thrown himself over the table to change from his WE suit into his swimming wear, Duke use his grappling hook to zoom up the stairs and Steph begged Cass to lend her a bikini.

Damian remained seated, despairing that his old swimming shorts had been bought by Dick the year previous. Dick had gotten him green shorts with little cats and dogs. Damian- who refused to even go near public pools- wore them to the family pool with no desire to purchase new ones since he saw no point in it.

And now he was paying the price for keeping childish wear. Personally, Bruce thought they were adorable and perfect for his fourteen-year-old son, but being two years younger than Danny gave him a terrible disadvantage, and Damian could not afford falling futher behind.

He just sat there, staring longingly at the retreating back of Alfred's assistant after telling him he had nothing to wear. Danny had told them he could join the rest another time before scurrying away to finish his cleaning of the right wing.

What else could Bruce do besides offering to take him to the nearest outlet mall and get him something nicer?

"Damian are you almost-"

"I am ready, father. Make haste to purchase our wears. Daniel must be finishing his duties, and I wish to get back." His son announced, yanking the cart out of Bruce's hand and practically running to the cashiers.

Bruce sighed.

It's not that he minded his son's crush on a boy or that it was Danny. It just felt like he shouldn't be encouraging his children to try and romance someone going through a lot.

Alfred had forbidden anyone from looking into Danny's background, and he had respected the request. There was a lot Bruce and Batman were willing to do but defying a direct order from Alfred was not one of them.

(Honesty, if Alfred ever turned evil, Bruce's contingency plan for him was simple: Die.)

Danny took his assistant butler job very seriously. Often wearing a neat and pressed suit, finishing his work in record time, well mannered and very intelligent but kept a distance from the family. Alfred also had a small wall of professionalism but he would crack a joke and be in their presence like a grandfather.

Danny only spoke when spoken to, tried to refrain from being notice and basically kept the reminder that while he liked them all he was always going to be a employee first and foremost.

Maybe it was due to his parents? Danny probably couldn't relax until he felt safe once more. Not for the first time, Bruce wondered what type of monsters the Fentons had to be to make a boy capable of discovering the Batcave without so much of a blink, flatter.

"Father!" Damian called impatiently, tapping his foot before the nervous-looking teen who what been attempting to ring him up.

The Wayne's made everyone nervous.

"Yes. Yes. Here put It on my card-" Damian snatched it out of his hand before Bruce even took it out completely from his wallet.

Suddenly his phone rings. Seeing that Damian could handle punching in the Pin, he accepted the call, not bothering to check the screen.

All his children have personalized ringtones, so only one person would cause Gun and Ships from the Hamilton musical to blare from his phone.

"Jason-"

"Bruce!" Jason yells in a wheezing voice "Tim almost drowned!"

What.

"Is he alright!?"

"He's fine!" Jason assures, voice breaking to manic cackling. "He's just really embarrassed. He forgot about the bruise on his back, so when he tried to do cannonballs with Danny, he cramped up. Danny had to help him out of the pool and then lectured him about jumping in the deep end because of peer pressure. He thinks Tim can't swim, Bruce!"

Bruce felt a headache building behind his eyes. "Jason-"

"Wait, wait, there's more! Do you know how Steph never wears bikinis because she is uncomfortable? Danny clocked that as soon as she walked in and offered her the old t-shirt he was wearing. Took it off right then and there, and do you know what Steph did!? She walked into a wall! A wall Bruce!"

"Jason-"

"Duke hasn't stopped staring at Danny. I think his brain is in a permanent blue screen. I'm actually thinking he's-"

"Jason!" Bruce cut in which finally seemed to get his second oldest attention. Don't get him wrong, he was thrilled that Jason was spending so much time around the manor but the constant updates on his children tripping over themselves for Danny was not well for his heart. "I think you need to make sure your siblings give Danny some space. The poor chum might not be comfortable-"

"I'm not helping you stop Danny from finding true love, old man"

Bruce rolled his eyes as his son hung up. He can't wait for school to start up again. Danny will be homeschooled by his own request and Alfred's agreement but at least most of his kids will not be around him as often.

His phone started playing Sk8er Boy and he considered not answering. He really did but honestly his son probably needed him.

With a sigh he presses the accept call button "Tim-"

"He thinks I can't swim Bruce! He banned me from the pool!" Tim sobs and Bruce sees Damian perk up, happy Danny had put distance between one of his suitors ans himself.

Was it too late to ask Alfred if he was sure his contact Clockwork had no where else to foster Danny?

Being Batman on the night all his rouges broke out was easier then this.

( Part 1) (part 3)

#dc x dp crossover #Alfred's boy #part 2 #Bruce is tired #Jason is having the time of his life #Danny just wants to work #hes not aware they like him #he just thinka rich people are weird

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whimsyeo · 5 months

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perfect for you

જ⁀➴ jeong yunho x fem!reader (ft. seonghwa)

༄ yunho prepares the perfect date to finally pop the question to you. absolutely nothing goes as planned.

wc; 2.7k

cw; failed marriage proposal, established relationship, absolute pure fluff, minor injury (reader), slight mention of blood, yunho’s trying his best okay</3

notes; on a writing kick here lately, and i had to write something sweet to make up for my last angsty yunho fic! small spoiler: he cries this time haha :,)

🎧 sunlight by hozier & 18 by one direction

Yunho had been planning this night for weeks. With the help of resident hopeless romantic, his close friend Seonghwa, he was certain the preparations couldn't of gone any better.

A romantic dinner followed by a walk in the park to a decided upon clearing, where you two could watch the stars together. Then, while you were distracted by the constellations, he would get down on one knee and ask you the question that's been weighing on his mind and even heavier on his heart for as long as he's known you.

Truly, he's known all along. Blurted it out, too, before he could stop himself on what was just your very second date together. That he could imagine himself marrying you. He had turned red in the face from the blunder while you only giggled. He was relieved his declaration hadn't bothered you at all, and spurred on by the sound of your unabashed joy, he felt all the more assured of his feelings.

Seonghwa had suggested not doing anything too out of the ordinary from your regular date nights to not draw any suspicion. Yunho agreed with this, as difficult as it was not to pounce on you from sheer excitement after finally seeing you in the dress he had bought you just for this evening. You both occasionally coordinated the other for your respective planned date nights, so you'd had no qualms about wearing what he had picked out for you. You looked a dream in the dark red fabric, the color suiting you perfectly and the fit even better than Yunho could've imagined (women's sizing was a complete mystery to him, and so he felt once again grateful to have had Seonghwa's help).

He finds himself staring at the expanse of your bare shoulders when you call him on it, his gaze snapping to meet your's with what can only be a blinding smile. He can't hide his enthusiasm in the slightest, but given your past comparisons of him to that of a hyperactive puppy on just any regular day, he's hopeful that his demeanor comes as no surprise to you. The star gazing would be new for you both, but otherwise, you didn't seem the slightest bit privy to his actual plans. He feels positive that the night is already going so well.

Until it doesn't.

"Sunday?" Yunho asked, brows pulled together in confusion. "Are you sure? I'm positive I made the reservation for Saturday."

Yunho pats down his pants, the weight of the ring in his front pocket suddenly feeling so much heavier, and sighs when he can't find the familiar imprint of his phone. Of course, he'd left it in his car.

"I'm sorry, sir," the hostess says, tapping on the screen in front of her. "Your reservation was made for the 21st."

"Today's the 20th?" He mumbles to himself. He had prepared for everything so thoroughly, how could he have gotten the actual date wrong?

"It happens, love," you reassure from beside him. He glances over as you rub his arm, an unwavering smile still present on your face. "There's an Italian place across the street. I'm pretty sure they're reservation optional."

Yunho relaxes at your quick thinking. He had felt himself begin to spiral, already believing the whole night was ruined because he somehow messed up this one little thing. He realizes he shouldn't let a small mix up change the entire course of the night, so he nods, giving you an appreciative grin as he agrees.

The place you mentioned is, in fact, directly across from your usual date spot. Yunho never paid it much mind, as you two only ever came to this side of town for the same restaurant every time. But standing outside of it now, the building is just as inviting. Warm lighting shining through the iron windows and then the door when he holds it open for you. The blend of aromas from where you enter is pleasant, and he almost feels silly for nearly panicking over something so honestly small. It was a shame the same restaurant he'd officially asked you out in wouldn't be apart of your proposal story now, but while you appreciated those kinds of sentimental attachments as much as he did, he knew better than to think it would actually change anything for you.

(Yunho had asked you before about what your dream proposal might look like. He had imagined something like a ferris wheel ride, or watching the fireworks together on a warm summer night. A customary dish from your dream travel destination or maybe a home cooked picnic.

"You could propose to me with a paper ring and I'd still say yes," you told him so easily. As if your words didn't make his heart nearly leap entirely out of his chest and run home to you, it's true holder, from the deep affection that floods him.

The topic of marriage wasn't uncharted territories for you both. You talked about it before as something you would equally want whenever the timing is right. Yunho only ever held out for your sake, really. In his heart of hearts he'd always known it belonged with you.

Unable to contain the love he feels any longer, he pressed a firm kiss onto your cheek, "I just want it to be perfect for you. All you've ever dreamed of."

Yunho means it with his whole being. You could ask for the world and he'd find a way to give it to you, or at least run to the very ends of the Earth trying. Never giving up on his search unless you were the one to then tell him to.

You sit up suddenly, him pouting at the loss of warmth by his side while you turn to him seriously. Cupping either side of his face as your eyes pour into his, you make absolute sure that your words are heard loud and clear.

"You are everything I've ever dreamed of, Yunho.")

You're sat comfortably in a booth meant for two when the waiter brings your food, you both having settled for variations of the same pasta dish. The smell is just as inviting as when you first walked it.

As Yunho always does, he waits for you to begin eating first. It's only after you take a bite that he then picks up his own fork, and as he's bringing it to his mouth, he notices your gaze fixed on him.

"What?" He asks, nonchalant. He takes the bite off the fork while your shoulder shake with barley contained laughter. His chewing slows to a stop as the realization dawns on him. He looks down at his plate, a frown creasing between his brows. "Oh. This tastes horrible."

Your giggles break through at that, his head shooting up at the sound and a grin taking over his face on it's own accord.

"Yeah," you agree, smiling despite your words. "It does."

Yunho can't help but chuckle as well, and before long you're both unable to contain your equally loud laughter. Yunho can't find it in himself to be upset at yet another unexpected bump in the road when you just find it so funny.

It's a while before you two are able to look at each other again without laughing, and once you can, Yunho suggests taking your chances on the food vendors you had passed coming inside. Street skewers sound like fine dining compared to the over salted yet still bland pasta in front of you, so you agree.

The chicken skewers are in fact a lot tastier. You and Yunho share your respective two before your walking down the same street as before, interlaced hands swinging between you.

Dinner was unfortunate, but the second half at least was completely out of Yunho's control. He feels better because of that and your easy going reaction to it all. In the future, he imagines you too cracking up over it again, about how the night he proposed was so far from perfect but ended as happily as ever. He can't physically smile any wider at the thought of what's to come, so he squeezes your hand in barley contained excitement.

He can no longer deny the nerves twisting in his stomach once more. The actual proposal was the one thing that could absolutely not go wrong. He couldn't picture in any way that it could - you were a few minutes walk away from the park it was meant to happen, and he could still feel the weight of the ring that he had no way of forgetting in his pocket. Surely it would be smooth sailing from here.

Yunho's steps stutter as he recognizes what sounds suspiciously like thunder rumbling overhead. He huffs a laugh, because there's no way - he must be just so on edge that he's imagining things now. The weather was the one thing he had worried about the most and planned carefully around from the beginning, constantly checking the forecast all morning just to reassure himself. It'd read as a zero percent chance for rain the whole day. No signs of a drizzle at any point this week, even.

But then the first drop falls, and Yunho swears this must be a joke. He tilts his head up as the rain starts, picking up momentum a lot quicker with every passing second. You come to the realization just as he does, shoulders rising as a surprised gasp leaves your lips.

"Let's get you inside," he says, glancing around for any kind of overhang. The closest one he sees is just up ahead, a little further into your walk and closer to the parking lot his car is in.

Determined to at least get you out of the rain before deciding his next course of action, he tugs on your arm. The rain only falls harder with every hurried step you both take, and even if your positively soaked already, Yunho tries to pull you along quickly. Belatedly taking into account how damp the sidewalk has already gotten too, until you almost entirely slip out of his hold and onto your knees on the concrete.

He manages to stop you from completely face planting, but doesn't miss your slight wince as he helps you back to your feet. Yunho decides the overhang is a lost cause and you're better off going straight to the car instead. So, with hurried but more cautious steps, he takes you straight there.

You're both equally drenched by the time he helps you into the passenger seat, and rounds the car to his driver's side. He breathes a sigh of relief once he's finally out of the frigid rain, and quickly cranks up the car to get the heat started before you get sick. He flicks on the overhead lights as he turns to check on you.

"Are you-" Yunho starts to ask, but his gaze falls onto you knee that presumably had hit the ground after your fall. The other came out unscathed, luckily, but he doesn't feel the least bit better when your left knee is scrapped enough to have small droplets of blood forming. "Oh, love, you're bleeding..."

"I'm okay," you reassure, a smile on your lips despite the angry redness of your knee. "It's just a little scratch."

Yunho still feels terrible, even as your sat on the bathroom sink while he dabs at the scrapes with feather like touches. The cotton ball in his hand hardly makes any contact with the wounds, and you can't help but laugh softly at his overly careful antics.

"I don't know if that's doing much of anything," you tease lightheartedly, hoping to ease some of the crease between his brows.

It does no such thing, "I don't want to hurt you even more."

You sigh, "Yunho, baby..." His frown is still fixated on your wounded knee, so you gently cup his chin to encourage his attention back to you. "Look at me. I'm okay, I promise."

You bring your right hand to hold the other side of his jaw, holding firm eye contact to ensure your words stick. Presumably they do, but you don't anticipate Yunho's own filling with tears in matter of seconds.

"I ruined everything," he mumbles, attempting to blink away the wetness clouding his vision. It doesn't work, and the first tear makes a pitiful trail down cheek, tugging on your heart as it goes.

"What?" You register his words, mirroring his frown. "Baby, you did nothing wrong."

Yunho stands up straight, running a hand through his damp hair as he begins to ramble, "Tonight was supposed to be perfect for you. Hyung helped me plan everything and it all seemed so nice but then absolutely everything that could've went wrong did and then I made you trip and - and I just want marry you but now you're hurt because of me and I-"

"Yun," you cut him off with a careful hand on his shoulder. "You want to marry me?"

Yunho freezes, his brain catching up to his mouth and he groans, "I really did ruin everything."

You sigh, lifting your hands back up to hold Yunho's shoulders firmly in place.

"Ask me," you simply say.

Yunho sputters for a moment, searching your expression for any hint of upset or disappointment. He doesn't know how to feel that he finds none, only the slight quirk at the end of your lips, pushing an all knowing grin.

"What?" He asks, the fresh tear tracks on his cheeks causing a painful twist in your chest. You reach up to gently dab the wetness away, directing him a warm smile.

"Do you have the ring on you?" You ask instead.

Stunned, Yunho scrambles to pat down his pockets. The one thing that hadn't gone completely wrong all night - he didn't forget the ring. He pulls the velvet black box out of his back pocket. He holds it in his hand, staring blankly at you.

"Well?" You probe, crossing your arms over your chest. "Are you going to ask me?"

Yunho blinks dumbly as he comes to understand. He feels himself wanting to cry again for an entirely different reason. Biting back his own grin, he lowers himself to one knee - not an easy feat given your compact apartment bathroom. His back foot hits the wall and he's nearly in your lap by the end of it, but you're both too giddy to care.

"My love," he starts, feeling unsure. "Tonight did not go how I envisioned. At all. But it did reaffirm everything I already knew. I've always known, and right now I believe. In us and our future, more than anything. Will you-"

"Yes," you cut him off, unable to wait another second. "Yes, Yunho, God, yes."

You throw your arms around his neck, laughing and shaking and feeling the happiest you've ever felt. Yunho laughs as well, encircling his arms around your waist and pressing a kiss against your bare shoulder.

"Can you let me finish?" He teases easily, feeling a thousand times lighter and happier himself. You nod against his shoulder and huff a laugh of your own.

"Right, sorry," you pull back with a sniffle, wiping under your wet eyes. "Please continue."

Yunho laughs, his eyes filling with tears of joy as he opens the box back between you, "Will you marry me?"

A swarm of butterflies erupt inside of you, a feeling you haven't stopped experiencing since meeting Yunho all those years ago, and you nods hurriedly, "Yes. Yes, I'll marry you, Yunho."

His face nearly splits in two with the grin that takes over his features. He wastes no time pulling the ring from the box and slipping it onto your finger, heart warming at the perfect fit.

It's beautiful, practically glimmering under your overhead bathroom lighting, but all you want right now is to be in Yunho's arms once more.

So you toss yourself back into his embrace, holding on like your life and mind and heart depends on it. He clutches onto you just as tightly, pressing kiss after kiss into your still damp hair.

Yunho needs to finish cleaning your knee. He also wants to make you take a shower and strip of your wet clothes before a cold really sets in and so he can proper bandage the wound after. But for now, this is all he wants. To be holding the love of his life and now fiancée at the end of a long day that, despite everything, had turned out even more perfect than he could've ever imagined.

Yunho knew he could look forward to even more bad days, so long as he always had you to come home to at the end of it all.

#whimsyworks #yunho x reader #yunho fluff #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #jeong yunho x you #jeong yunho x reader #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #yunho reactions #yunho imagines #yunho x you #yunho scenarios

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viscus-exe · 16 days

Text

◟　Safety a step ahead

❝　sfw (for now /j), gender-neutral reader, an entry soft prompt idfk w a sprinkle of angst, developing relationship.

i like my sebastian solace repressed and saddled w emotions

It's entirely too shameful to acknowledge, but Sebastian's grown used to your visits, amongst all the useless Urbanshade prisoners. They all tussle between each other, spouting lies or curses, being impossibly loud and disposable. They annoy him to ends that all other entities couldn't compare to. Getting rid of one or two of those pesky humans is nothing to how often they're cleared out with the Angler or the Painter.

You're not exactly like them though. It could be his possibly fractured mind's fault— never mind that, he's certain it's because of his abnormalities. Something must have twisted or wretched itself open to a wrong code, gotten all mixed up somewhere, he shouldn't be feel like this about your being. Contrary to his previous visitors, he wants you safe, when all he's done is bring the hundreds of deaths upon you and others such.

"This is entirely your fault."

This relief he feels upon hearing your voice is frustratingly familiar. He watches you crawl out the vent with a vacant smirk, silently pleased to not see or smell blood on you; you stink of rotten corals and salt water. You make it hard for him to be disgusted with you, especially with that addled spring warm voice. He shouldn't be like this, but he is; for once, he doesn't cry at the abrupt change to his self. At least it's something not monstrous.

"What happened to you this time?"

"Your stupid underwater areas." You bemoan at your oddly-tasting experience, spitting out water to the side before tugging at your strands of hair to point them out to Sebastian. Your wet suit is the least of your problems. "I'm all soaked through." You want to sleep.

As strange as that notion may be, you're entirely sure of it. Those hallways have tired you out and you're unwilling to make another fucking step ahead until you've gotten your energy back. And since there isn't a comfortable place to tuck yourself in, you'll aim for the second best. Which is, infuriatingly to the shopkeeper, Sebastian's tail.

"What do you think you're doing?"

He watches you unsurely, surprised with how boldly you throw yourself at his appendage; if it were any others human, he'd have slammed them into the ground already and shot their brains out, but it's you that does him in, staying pliantly.

"Resting, shrimpy. I'll leave when I've had my nap."

Sebastian visibly bristles at your nickname for him, squeezing you just once in warning, until he gives in to you as easily as water. You curl up against the bunched up elements of his tail without complain on the straps wrapped around them. You're exhausted, quietened down and cruelly sweet in the way you cling to him.

"Very well, but you're buying me out of stock on your next run."

Sebastian murmurs, a voice resigned to your hopeful whims. You're slippery to hold, not too pleasant of a weight, but you're almost his like this. You're almost like him, just needing a pair of fins, different lungs— although he would never in all hells subjects you to the torture he went through for those assets.

You're almost his, yet he'll always be grateful you're not. When you find out the truth about his intentions, he will certainly lose you.

#pressure #sebastian solace #reader x sebastian solace #sebastian solace x reader #sebastian solace x you #reader x character #blue

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cherryclxud · 4 months

Text

Catch me if you can Lord Holmes pt2

(ENOLA HOLMES)!Sherlock x BRIDGERTON! reader

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Description: a writer by the name of Marcus Bradford has taken the Ton by storm with his weekly edition chapter of a crime story, Sherlock is tasked with finding Marcus Bradford and solving the case of the abominable bride. but what if meeting a certain Bridgerton girl distracts him from the case?

Word count: 5.8k

Warnings: none

Taglist <3 : @frost-queen @siannaplmn @annesunlight @jolixtreesunn @probabydeadbynow @chloepluto1306 @gayandfairycore @queenfairyfangirl @viylikescats @hipsternerd9 @delusional-4-fake-people

read below for credits.

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SLEEPING AT 221B BAKER STREET USUALLY came easy to Enola. Seeing as there was quite literally very little for her to do, however, for the past 2 nights it has become increasingly difficult for her not to get out of bed and shout at her brother to put the violin down.

Sherlock was stuck, and Enola could tell by his incessant playing of the violin, the notes he was playing were all gloomy grey. With a sigh, she put her head under the pillow and slammed her hand over it to cover her ears in the hope of respite from the sound. Of course, for the first 4 hours he was playing Enola felt sympathy, but when his playing started to get in the way of her sleep that's when her sympathy towards Sherlock turned to contempt towards the violin.

She had reached the point where she imagined scenarios of her grabbing scissors and cutting the strings, or of her taking the violin and throwing it out the window.

Somehow the music playing seemed to penetrate through the pillow, making the girl move the pillow, turn to her back and glare at the ceiling. She got up and stomped the the drawing room where her brother sat there playing the insipid instrument.

“SHERLOCK” she shouted over the music causing her brother to play a wrong note before stopping and turning to her. “Enola? Shouldn't you be asleep by now?” he looked out the window and saw the moon still high in the sky.

Enola crossed her arms while rolling her eyes, “geez Sherlock that's a great idea, i was getting quite tired and had no idea how to remedy it, you have truly opened my eyes” Her voice was full of sarcasm yet Sherlock paid no mind to it as he was distracted.

“Hmm yes well I suppose you should get to it”.

Enola scoffed as she saw her brother pick up the violin about to resume his playing once more “Sherlock! I can't if you insist on playing at this time.” she pointed to the instrument as the older Holmes looked down at it with a sigh.

“Ah, I see, my apologies sister I seemed to have gotten carried away” he places the instrument on its stand before slamming it down on the settee with a sigh and closes his eyes as he continues to think.

Enola turns around, happy that the peace and quiet has finally infiltrated the home, she goes on her way to her room and just as she was about to go in she stops. She turns to look to her brother, she really felt pity for him at this point, losing sleep over looking for this man who could quite literally be anywhere in England.

“Sherlock, what's wrong?”

Sherlock opens his eyes and lifts his head to look at his sister. “Nothing Enola you should go to bed, I promise I won't play anymore”

He watches as his sister walks across the room only stopping at the coffee table to pick up his tobacco pipe and hold it in between her lips in thought. “Oh look at me I'm Sherlock and I must find out everything about everyone yet never let anyone find out anything about me” she spoke in a mock deep voice as she sat next to him.

HE leaned forward and snatched the pipe from her mouth before wiping the mouthpiece with his shirt. Enola watched as he lit the pipe with a match and smoked in silence, a frown etched on his face. She decided to change the subject hoping it would get her brother to open up more about what was bothering him.

“Y/n and i have been writing to each other”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow “y/n Bridgerton? The viscount's sister?” Enola nodded

“Yes we have been speaking since we met Nonestop, she is actually quite amusing.” Enola smiled recounting the letters they both shared. Sherlock rolled his eyes but deep inside was happy that his sister had found someone to be friends with. He was worried that his taking care of her had caused his disinterest in forging real connections with people had spread to her. He didn't want her to lean on him and not connect with anyone else.

He found himself grateful for y/n's sudden but effective presence in his sister's life.

“She's quite like you, you know?” Enola spoke looking nowhere in particular. This caught Sherlock's attention as he looked back to his sister, “How so?”

“Well for starters she's smart…well not as smart as you, no one as smart as you” Enola rolled her eyes before grabbing a small rubber ball she found lying on the floor and bounced it up and down a few times, “She reads a lot, she told me when her brother would return from oxford for the summer she would take the books he'd read and read and study his essays and annotations”

Sherlock, who was staring at the floor where the ball was bouncing, chuckled quietly remembering one year at Oxford when Anthony had returned from his stay with his family missing the book he was meant to be studying for the semester and sheets of essays he had worked on during the time off, and how frazzled he was trying to rewrite what he could from memory, only to have it delivered to him with a letter of apology from his sister later that night.

“You know she even read that boring book you wrote on like the two hundred and forty types of tobacco” she offhandedly spoke not noticing her brother's smile dropped “Two hundred and forty-three”

“I believe that that was the only copy sold brother mine,” she smirked

“I'll have you know I sold three copies” he grumbled looking away.

Enola laughed “That's because Mycroft and I each bought a copy in support of you”

Sherlock scoffed and stood up walking to the window and looked outside pretending to be angry at his sister.

“Oh don't sulk brother you know that doesn't work on me, the print shop refused to print any more copies of your books in advance, that's how bad it did.” She leaned back in her seat with a smirk, “She invited me to breakfast at Bridgerton house tomorrow, can you take me there?”

Sherlock turned with a nod “I can drop you off and th-” he stopped mid-sentence as an idea struck him, “what did you just say?”

Enola looked at her brother worried that he was too busy to take her “She invited me for breakfast tomorrow and I wish for you to take me there. If you are busy I can take a carriage so no worri-”

“No no before that”

Enola tried to replay the conversation “I told you not to sulk, then that the book you wrote won't get printed in advance any longer”

Sherlock then turned to face away and walked to his desk that was placed in the drawing room and picked up one of the many newspapers that were turned to page 4, turned to the back of the paper and read down the page till he reached what he was looking for.

‘Tibalt's Printing Press

5th Northumberland street

London’

Sherlock smiled looking down at the paper, “Of course, Minnie always ends up in the kitchen when she's hungry.”

Enolas eyes turn the the left as she racks her brain trying to think what in the world her brother is going on about, “pardon?”

She watched as her brother scribbled some writing on a piece of paper before marching to his pin board on the wall and sticking a pin through the newspaper set on the last page. He stepped back with a smile, Enola stood up from her seat and walked to her brother's side.

“Sherlock, is everything alright?”

The brother looked at her and nodded “It's perfect, all back on track thanks to your friend,” Enola raised an eyebrow.

“Y/n? How did she help? Wait where are you going this late?” She watched as her brother picked up his coat and the paper he scribbled on. He walked up to her and gave her a kiss on the top of her head.

“Don't worry dear sister, assuming all goes to plan I'll be back in time to take you to break your fast with the Bridgertons, sleep well!” And with that, he walked out of the flat door closing it behind him leaving Enola alone in the drawing room.

With a sigh she blew out the remaining candle that illuminated the room, her eyes stopped at the violin that stood defenceless in the room. A smirk found its way on her face as she looked back at the door making sure her brother wouldn't be back.

………….

THE CANDLE BURNED LIGHTING ONE corner of y/n's bed-chamber, her eyes fled over words on the page of the book she was reading, a new author writing under the title ‘A Lady’ had written a book named ‘Pride and Prejudice’, y/n was completely infatuated with the idea that the author had so boldly revealed that whoever she was, she was a woman.

Unlike Lady Whistledown, this writer resorted to writing harmless fiction that was incredible to read, and unlike y/n she was courageous enough to reveal she was a female, and yet it was a complete shame in y/n's eyes to see that the books didn't do as well as she thought it deserved.

She pulled her knees to her chest as she relaxed against the window, sitting on the window seat to be able to look outside easily. It had become her routine to sit at the window every night, therefore to anyone else seeing her wouldn't warrant any suspicion, but y/n wouldn't sleep until something in the scenery outside her window changed.

She just about turns to a new page when from the corner of her eye she sees a light flickering outside her window facing the garden, turning to look outside, she sees the figure of the personal valet of Anthony walking in the garden with a candlelit lantern, stopping mid-walk he turns to her window direction and then blows out his candle.

Y/n gave a smile and blew out her own candle, drowning out the last shred of light in her room, and stood up from her seat, shutting the book and placed it on her dresser. And with that, the valet walked back into the house leaving the girl to go to sleep peacefully.

…….

THE CARRIAGE WHEELS STOPPED IN FRONT OF THE printing shop letting Sherlock step out before paying the driver. The windows were illuminated by the candles inside the print shop, he watched as two men worked on the printing of the weekly newspaper.

Sherlock walked over to the door of the print shop and tried to push it open only to find it was locked closed, however, the attempt to open it had gained him the attention of the two men who looked at each other before turning to Sherlock.

The older one of the two motioned to the younger man to go deal with him as he went back to work. The younger man rolled his eye as he walked to the door and unlocked it before stepping out to stand face to face with the detective, “You know we don't get many people coming here that don't know how to read, this being a print shop and all”

Sherlock stared blankly, the man then pointed at the sign hanging in the window “It says closed, there I read it for you, come back in the morning” he then walked back inside but as he went to shut the door Sherlock stopped it with his foot causing the man to turn back to him.

“I'm here to find out about Marcus Bradford!”

The man tried to push Sherlock back “If you're a fan then you have no luck here, we only print what we get given.” managing to push Sherlock's foot out he went to slam the door only to once again get stopped but this time by his hand. Once the door was open again then holmes pulled his hand back in pain, shaking it to relieve the soreness.

“I'm a detective, I just have a few questions regarding Mr Bradford and I'll be on my way.”

The printshop employee scratched his chin before motioning for Holmes to follow him inside, he took him to the older man who had previously sent him to deal with the problem.

“Theo? I thought I told you to deal with it” the old man spoke, Theo, however, sighed “yeah well he's a detective, won't leave”

The old man's hands stopped working on the press as he turned to meet Sherlock Holmes’ eye, “Aye, yes I recognise you, you're that Holmes guy, to what do I owe the honour?”

Theo spoke up before Sherlock could “he says he's looking for Bradford, Mr Tibalt.”

“You a fan Mr. Holmes?” Tibalt spoke, prompting Sherlock to glare in his direction.

“I assure you quite the contrary, I have been just tasked with looking into him and his background” Sherlock made sure to walk up to the elder man and stand about a foot away from him, standing taller than him he was trying to add an intimidation factor “I would appreciate your cooperation”

Tibalt stood staring at Sherlock for a good 10 seconds before speaking “I'm not sure if I can actually be of help, I haven't met the man, and neither has Theo, he doesn't deliver the stories himself”

“Then who does?”

“It really depends.”

“On?”

“4 men rotate in delivering the story every week, each one wears a mask so I don't see their faces. They don't say a word, all I get is the story and a letter with instructions on what to do along with the payment.”

Dead end.

“And when was the last time one of the men?” Sherlock asked.

“About an hour before you graced us with your own presence. He'd be long gone. All I can tell you is I have never met mr Bradford or had any personal contact with him.”

Sherlock nodded in thought, his only chance of unveiling Mr. Bradford had quite literally beat him to the chase. Tibalt turned and faced away from Sherlock grabbing a freshly printed newspaper copy, “I can't help you much about Bradford but I can tell you this” he handed Sherlock the new concept that was due for release in the morning, “Something has changed, he's introducing new characters in the midst of the story, and it's clear that this chapter has shifted it all to focus on this character. I assumed it would interest you seeing as for the past couple of copies he had been facing what I assume is a dry spell of ideas”

Sherlock looked at Tibalt before opening the paper to page 4, his eyes skimmed over the paper and suddenly stopped in his tracks, “Detective Sherrinford?” He looked up to the print shopkeeper who shrugged his shoulders and turned to get back to printing the rest of the papers.

Understanding that he most likely wouldn't be able to get more information, he left his address and told them to let him know if there were any updates, then thanked them and left to go home.

……..

LONDON WAS BUSTLING THAT MORNING, the weekly paper distribution brought by an onslaught of arguments and opinions about the new chapter in the story. The introduction of the character Detective Sherrinford had brought about mixed feelings.

Some believed that Bradford was losing his touch and was doing what he could to keep the story going, others believed that this was just a long-winded way of Marcus telling them that the real story was about to begin, especially with the way he ended off this week's chapter.

“The game is afoot?” Enola put down the newspaper against her lap, she looked towards Sherlock who sat across from her in the carriage on the way to the Bridgertons. He shrugged his shoulders as he moved the curtains to gauge how far along they were until the house, “A change I presume, seems Marcus Bradford has decided to take the story in a different direction” he replied, there was a tinge of frustration in his voice.

The carriage stopped in front of the Bridgerton house and Sherlock stepped out before helping Enola out next, the footman took them into the house where they were allowed into the drawing room where Anthony, Benedict, Eloise, Gregory and Violet sat.

Anthony being the first to see them stood up in surprise when he saw the Holmes sibling there, “Lord Holmes what a pleasant surprise this morning” he stood up and walked to them and shook their hands before inviting them further into the drawing room in the direction of his family, “this is my mother.” Violet stood from her seat with a smile, as Sherlock took her hand and placed a light kiss on it, then Anthony introduced the rest of his siblings in the room before turning to Sherlock “To what do I owe this fine visit to Holmes?”

“I invited Enola for breakfast brother” y/n who had just walked into the room spoke as she approached the group. Sherlock watched as she and Enola hugged, then as she turned to him and shook his hand, “Good morning Lord Holmes, it's very nice to see you again”

“Likewise Miss Bridgerton” he nodded to her. “I presume you have read the new chapter out today lord holmes, He added a new character what was his name” y/n put her hand the her chin as she pretended to have forgotten the name which Sherlock could of course detect however decided not to call her out on her actions and played along “detective Sherrinford i presume is the name you are trying to remember miss Bridgerton”

“Ahh yes, you are quite right lord holmes, I'm quite forgetful when it comes to these things” she lied jokingly as she spoke, making a small smile play on Sherlock's own lips.

“It's a shame seeing as the author has now added this character, who is a recluse detective who will possibly that forever to solve a case with already many plotholes, the only way the story can go is down.”

y/ns smile fell for a second but she made sure to replace it quickly enough to not be noticeable, “I don't know, I have come to take quite the liking to Detective Sherrinford, I think he will do great to solve this case, I think this story is getting better” she spoke with a smile.

As Sherlock and y/n spoke no one really paid any mind to them. Anthony and Benedict were busy talking, Enola had struck up a conversation with Eloise and Gregory was reading the story in the paper, and no one was paying them any mind…

But violet, she could see it.

Her daughter never took the time to talk to a man for this long about anything, not even about books or stories there was something there. And she was adamant about helping it grow.

“I don't know lord holmes, I would have thought you’d like the character, I think Sherrinford is exactly like you.” y/n’s words caused Enola and Eloise to look towards them in shock, “y/n! You are completely right, how could I not make that connection earlier myself “Enola spoke as she walked to the pair quickly.

“What are you two on about, the man is nothing like me”

And there stood the three arguing about why Sherrinford is or isn't like Sherlock until inevitably, a maid walked into the drawing room and called out that breakfast was ready.

“I guess this means I should take my leave not, Enola ill pick you up in 3 hours” Just as Sherlock was speaking about leaving, Violet interrupted his farewells “Lord Holmes please do join us for breakfast”

Sherlock just about shook his head and was about to decline before Violet spoke again “I had the cook prepare extra just for you” and with that, he couldn't refuse, no matter how much he wanted to.

….

The family and the Holmes siblings filtered into the dining area, Enola and y/n sat next to each other, and just about when Gregory was about to sit next to y/n on her other side, his mother motioned for him to sit elsewhere leaving Sherlock no other seat but that one, not that it really bothered him.

The families started eating and exchanging conversation, the atmosphere was delightful, and Enola was aglow, it had been a long while since she sat down for breakfast with a family seeing as usually she and Sherlock wake up at different times and end up eating anything.

“Lord Sherlock, it really is a pleasure having you and your sister here, I must say I'm surprised I havent seen you in the ton more often, no soirees nor balls” Violet spoke as she cut another piece of the omelette in her plate. Sherlock swallowed the food in his mouth before nodding to Violet “That is indeed true viscountess Bridgerton, I simply haven't found the time to integrate into society, there's too much work and research and clients. In fact it is my fault Enola has yet to debut, I had been meaning to help her this season however i got sidetracked.”

Violet nodded her face full of sympathy towards the two siblings, it was a known fact around the ton that the Holmes family had lost not one but both parents in the same year, their father had been taken ill for months before suffering through an unfortunately painful exit and their mother had been so in love with him and followed him mere months after due to a broken heart.

Since then little has been known about the Holmes family, they had become reclusive and barely interacted with the rest of the ton. Sherlock and Enola, who were 9 and 2 at the time, were put under the care and sanction of their older brother Viscount Mycroft who himself was 15. It was like the Holmeses ceased to exist any longer, that was until a few years ago when Viscount Mycroft got married and Sherlock moved out to a flat in Central London, it was widely believed that Sherlock found the Viscount Holmes’ new wife to be unappealing to share a mansion with, sooner or later in a visit back home he decided he would take his younger sister to live with him.

“Well better late than never I say” Violet spoke softly with a smile targeted at Sherlock. Her eyes flicker to y/n who was eating her food quietly while listening to the conversation then back to Sherlock. “you know, there is a soiree tomorrow night at the Dunphrees,”

Anthony stared at his mother in shock understanding what she was doing “Mother!”

Violet of course ignored him knowing Anthony really is only good for ruining her plans. “We shall be attending, I say you should come”

Enola looked up from her plate excited “Oh can we brother, it sounds like so much fun” y/n snorted quickly while holding back a laugh. Sherlock glanced at her before looking to his sister whose eyes was practically begging him, “ Enola you don't had a dress for the occasion and I doubt one can be made in time”

Y/n smirked as she looked at him, “That is no worry at all lord holmes i have 4 daughters surely I have a couple of dresses to spare that will be her size.” Violet interjected. y/n and Enola looked at each other excitedly, Sherlock's lips pressed together in a semi-frustrated smile before looking at his sister and y/n. Enola looked very excited as she shared a hug with y/n, and for a moment his eyes lingered on the Bridgerton girl, he was thankful for her existence in his sister's life, she was in fact a very interesting person to talk to, and maybe having her around would make him feel less guilty over not always being there for his sister. The said Bridgerton girl turned to face Sherlock awaiting his decision, only to be met with his own eyes looking at her, he quickly looked away while clearing his throat embarrassed at having been caught staring at her, but this action did not elude Violet’s eyee, she smiled softly at the bashfulness of sherlock.

With a sigh, he nodded albeit quite a bit reluctantly but part of him knew that Enola needed this, and in fact he needed a break, so maybe he needed this too. “I don't see why not, God knows we require a chance for respite.” Enola gleamed at the thought of attending her first soiree tomorrow.

The families continued their breakfast and their endless conversations, many topics including the breach of secrecy of Anthony and Sherlock Oxford days, they even told stories of the Duke of Hastings from their days living together. Enola revealed quite a bit of her childhood activities, and the two siblings shared their distaste for their sister in law, hyacinth chatted about how their elder sister Daphne would have almost been married to the prince of Prussia had it not been for her love for the duke, this conversation managed to segway into Eloise talking about Lady Whistledown and who she may be.

“Speaking of hidden writers,” y/n spoke as she turned to look at Sherlock “How has your hunt for Mr Bradford lord homles, someone of your calibre must have reached some conclusion.”

Sherlock nearly choked on the tea he was drinking, everyone at the table went quiet actually quite curious about his findings. “Lord Sherlock you found Mr. Marcus Bradford?” Gregory exclaimed, having been quite a fan of the writer's weekly updates.

Wiping his mouth with a handkerchief the detective shook his head “I'm afraid I'm still looking, he has proven to be quite a difficult man to find. I went to the printing shop that prints and distributes the weekly paper, unfortunately, they have no clue who he is either, seems he doesn't deliver the chapters himself for all I know he is on the other side of England.”

y/n’s eyes moved to the side in thought as everyone sighed in frustration expressing their disappointment in the possibility of not knowing the writer behind the book.

“Well that would make no sense” y/n spoke up causing all eyes to move to her.

“It makes perfect sense miss Bridgerton, there are other places in England a man can live other than Mayfair” Sherlock spoke sarcastically, confused as to why y/n would find such a simple ordeal strange, his words caused both Anthony and Benedict to chuckle.

y/n glared at her brothers then directed her glare to Sherlock “Laugh all you want men, I have a point to make. Tell me Lord Holmes why would a man on the other side of England write a story only for it to be published in Mayfair only? Surely he wants to see the fruits of his labour in person, even if he doesn't take the credit for it.”

“What makes you so sure that the man only has it published in Mayfair and not all over England?” Sherlock spoke, now completely serious, of course, he was quite upset that a point like this could have fled his mind. He had been too busy looking for the man himself when the actual paper held most of the clues he would need anyway. He thought it would be best to listen to y/n seeing as it was her words that triggered him to find the first clue in the first place.

Something told him that she knew much more than she let on about this case.

“Simple. We receive two different newspapers per week, one is the English paper, and the other is the Mayfair weekly paper, and yet the story only appears in the Mayfair weekly. That means your elusive writer is either an idiot-” Violet scolded her daughter for her use of an insult, however y/n brushed it off with an apologetic look aimed at her, before facing Sherlock again “-and is sending a copy of his writing to every separate town and city in England rather than just placing it in the English paper that goes all over England, or he is walking among us here in Mayfair”

The two stared eye to eye for a good 10 seconds in silence that even Colin had to clear his throat to almost ease the tension. Sherlock was the first to speak, “Well deduced Miss Bridgerton, you seemed to have caught on to a point I seemed to have missed” he smirked, “This is the second time, one more time and I may just have to engage you.” y/n’s smile dropped at his words and her face heated up as violet and Enola let out a quiet gasp. Sherlock cleared up his throat and quickly went to fix his wording.

“Engage you in other cases i mean, sometimes I could use an outsider's eye on the matter” he spoke while avoiding y/n’s eyes, his fingers tracing the rim of the teacup in his hands. y/n was in a similar situation but had a small smile that danced on her lips.

“Holmes doesn't jest” y/ns smiled as her eyes shot up to look at Anthony who had made a habit of ruining the moment “Y/n is a young lady and shouldn’t really be exposed to some of the cases you deal with, don't you agree” she glared at him. “And what of it brother? What does my being a lady have to do with a case? It’s not like crime stops when I walk in the room just because I'm a lady.” she spoke while rolling her eyes, she knew her brother meant well but sometimes he was overbearing.

“y/n-”

“Actually viscount Bridgerton, I completely understand your argument” Sherlock's words caused y/n to look at him disappointed “However as Miss Bridgerton has worded it wonderfully, crime doesn't stop because the fairer sex exists. I truly believe there is no such thing as protecting them from the truth, only hiding the truth. I think Miss Bridgerton would benefit from being challenged by a few questions, no need to see a crime scene herself. I do this with Enola all the time, and she doesn't seem to mind at all.”

Enola quickly nodded at her brother's words in agreement “It's true Lord Bridgerton, it’s quite fun, like solving puzzles, it keeps me occupied and gives me the ability to spend time with Sherlock.”

Violet interjected before Anthony could speak again,” These are quite bold ideas you share lord holmes, not many men would agree with you.”

“And not many women too” Eloise muttered with an eye roll.

But Sherlock kept his resolve and looked to y/n and his sister before looking back to Violet, “Well viscountess Bridgeton, I am quite a fanatic of what many may call strange ideals. I believe that a day will come, when a war will break out,” the whole table gasped in shock at his words, “one half of the human race against the other, the invisible army always standing by the men's shoulder, there has to come a day where us men stand back and view women as equals who deserve respect and demand to be heard”

“I think it's a wonderful idea lord holmes, you letting y/n help out in your cases that is.” Violet broke the silence as she clasped her two hands together, she met eyes with y/n who smiled at her, she smiled back and gave her daughter a wink.

If he were to be the man her daughter would love, then she would rather back her up than be against her and cause her daughter to abstain from the thought of love or marriage in general.

Gregory sat up excitedly “Lord Holmes! When you do find Mr. Bradford do you think you can get him to sign a copy of his books for me?”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow with a smile at the excitement in his voice “Thats IF, but I don't see why not”

“No, it’s WHEN, Lord Holmes, I’m sure you are much closer to the man than you think” y/n spoke while motioning to Anthony valet to fetch her more tea with a smile. Sherlock looked at the teacup in y/n’s hands in confusion “I’m not sure im any closer to finding him, no one in the ton knows him”

The valet held the teacup as he poured tea for y/n as she spoke “Who says Marcus Bradford is the writer's real name?” it was like clockwork, Sherlock looked at y/n as she spoke, and the teacup slipped out of the valet's hands dropping some of the contents of the cup straight into y/ns lap. Sherlock quickly grabbed a tablecloth from in front of him and started dabbing the tea on her lap, them action caused her eyes to widen and for her to stand up quickly and move away, Anthony and Benedict stood up, both rushing to their sister, countless apologies were spewed from the valet's mouth. It was actually quite chaotic.

“It’s fine, I'm fine” y/n spoke with a nervous smile. “ one of the downsides of being a girl is wearing many layers, though I suppose in this case it is an upside” she let out a giggle while looking at everyone, her eyes moved to the valet who was still apologising “no harm no foul Hudson, I'm fine”

“I may have to get changed though, Enola,” she turned to face her friend, “Why don't you join me, we can look for a dress for you to wear for tomorrow's soiree”

The younger Holmes got up with a smile and joined her as the two rushed off to y/n’s room.

Everyone returned to their seats and slowly continued on with their conversation, however, Sherlock felt uneasy now in his seat, looking up in front of him his eyes met with Anthony’s eyes, who almost seemed to be glaring back at him. The eldest Bridgerton brother hadn't missed how Sherlock reacted to the tea dropped on his sister, he wanted to diminish any feelings that may be growing from y/n towards Holmes as fast as possible, to him Sherlock wasn't right for his sister.

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AN: First of all I am absolutely blown away by the number of likes and requests for tags I have gotten, I love you all, literally thought this story was going to flop. I'm sorry it took a while for the second chapter to come out hopefully next chapter won't take as long. TRULY LIKE WOW.

This chapter has so many easter eggs feel free to let me know which ones you found out through my ask box or comments, and if there is smth you would like me to add in any upcoming chapters let me know too<3

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I do not own Bridgerton

I do not own Sherlock or Enola Holmes

and I most certainly don't own the abominable bride story

I do not own Sherrinford

they belong to their rightful owners

I only own the fic idea.

#bridgerton #sherlock holmes #sherlock x reader #enola holmes #enola and sherlock #bridgerton reader #bridgerton x reader #sherlock holmes fanfiction #crossover #fanfic #sherlock holmes x y/n #sherlock #imagine #bridgerton x enola holmes #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x female reader

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remlionheart · 6 months

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Sex, Money, Feelings, Die (part two)

* ˚ ✦ MDNI ✦˚ *

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ask and you shall receive ~ you guys wanted more, so here it is! 𓆩♡𓆪 thank u so much for all the love on this ♡ i didn't expect my first shot at Chuuya to gain so much traction but i'm really glad it did (he's just soooo ♡‿♡ u know?) hope you like a good slowburn bc buckle up, heavy "we shouldn't be doing this" vibes, Chuuya would honestly be the most arrogant yet easy to break dom because of how badly he wants to please you and you can't convince me otherwise, porn with a plot, 5.6k words. this fic once again had me swooning and gnawing at the bars of my enclosure writing it so pls lemme know whatcha think, also big shoutout to @bratbby333 for helping me edit this ღ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ♡ here's part one if you're new here ♡

You stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror with a sigh, tugging at the neck of your shirt. It was late August, 90 degrees outside, and you were on day three of wearing a turtleneck.

You felt like you were attending a funeral in your black top, black heels, and black tennis skirt - but it was all you had left. You'd already worn your other patterned and pleated options earlier in the week. Already paired each stifling hot sweater with the nicest necklaces you had to make them look more business casual than walk-of-shame.

But no matter how nonchalant you'd tried to seem about your sudden change in wardrobe, it was impossible to ignore the curious stares you'd been getting. The suspicious glances from Akutagawa who just a few days ago could barely even look in your direction without tripping over his own feet. There was a palpable sense of skepticism that followed you and it only seemed to get worse with each high-collared shirt you wore.

You let out another sharp exhale, surveying yourself one last time before heading back to your office. You were busy trying to decide on which expletive you were going to spend the next 7 hours cross-stitching when you rounded the corner, a sudden rush of warmth spreading across your face as a pair of cerulean eyes locked with yours.

Out of all the looks you'd gotten recently, his were by far the hardest to avoid.

Time seemed to slow as you passed him. A subtle but taunting smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth while he continued his conversation with Mori. Something about his upcoming assignment in Osaka and how it'd require him to be gone for at least two weeks.

You disappeared into your office, closing the door behind you as you took a seat and diligently began working on a new project.

Your thread kit had become invaluable over the last few days. It wasn't just a way to pass time anymore - it was an escape. A tool you used to steer your thoughts away from the one place that they kept relentlessly trying to wander back to.

Since the announcement of his solo mission, there'd hardly been a chance for you to see Chuuya outside of the lingering glances you'd exchange in passing. Mori had been keeping close tabs on him, constantly barging in and out of his office to go over the details of his assignment. You tried to remind yourself that it was probably for the best. That the safest thing you could do was keep what had happened between the two of you a onetime fling and nothing more.

It hadn't mattered in the moment how careless you'd both been when you assumed that you'd never see him again, but now that your time here had been extended, you were quickly realizing how critical it was to keep your wits about you. Up until arriving at Port Mafia, you'd barely been skating by. Living off of a dwindling savings account and more often than not having to choose between dinner or rent.

The first check you received from Mori alone was more than you made all of last year working as a barista. You knew that this sort of opportunity would never come again. That it was absolutely fleeting and subject to change at any given moment, but that's what made keeping it for as long as you could so important. The money you were making now would put you through college. It would grant you a future that didn't involve debt. A sense of stability that you never would've had otherwise.

You had no choice but to lay low, for real this time.

You moved your tapestry needle with ease, adding small, strategically placed hearts around the words, "choke me" as you stretched out your legs with a yawn.

The coffee they had here wasn't nearly as good as the coffee you'd usually get from the cafe down the street, but you decided it was better than nothing as you set your cross-stitch pad on your desk and ventured down the hallway.

For as dangerous as this place was, there was still an odd allure of normalcy about it. There were mundane things like work meetings and fax machines and a breakroom that stayed stocked with beverages and snacks. If it weren't for the people that worked here, this truly would be just another business building in downtown Yokohama.

Your suede pumps tapped against the tile as you entered the breakroom, grabbing a k-cup out of the drawer and popping it into the machine before walking over to the cabinet. Despite the three-inch heels you were wearing, you still had to resort to using your tiptoes to reach the mug you wanted.

Your waist leaned into the counter, your arm reaching as high as it could go when your entire body suddenly froze.

You felt him before you heard him, a pair of gloved hands stealthily gripping around your hips. He rested his head on your shoulder, his breath sending chills along your skin as it broke through the barrier of your shirt and danced across the nape of your neck. He pulled you in closer, your ass meeting the firmness of his growing bulge while his palm slowly drifted up past your skirt and brushed against your inner thigh.

"You know you can't ignore me forever, right?" It was posed as a question but held the weight of a threat with the tantalizing way he touched you.

Your pulse raced, heat gathering at your center as he began to toy with the lacy outline of your underwear. His fingers were dangerously close to where you wanted them and where you knew they shouldn't be. Where they couldn't be if you wanted to stay here.

It was cruel irony that just last week it had been him who was trying so hard to keep himself together and now you were somehow the one struggling to maintain your composure. Failing to stop yourself from arching your back against him. Nearly whining when he abruptly pulled away from you and disappeared without another word.

You swallowed hard, looking down at yourself while you straightened out the hem of your skirt, your body still aching from the disappearance of his touch. It was only then that you realized just how fitting your outfit for today actually was.

You were attending a funeral, mourning the loss of your dignity that had died so easily at the hands of Chuuya Nakahara.

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Two days had passed since your run-in with the redhead and you'd barely seen him since. You knew he was set to leave for Osaka tomorrow morning from the conversations you'd overheard while wandering the hall and you knew he wasn’t looking forward to it.

Maybe it would've been easier to not care about what he was doing if you weren't forced to be here every day, but there was no such thing as a break when working for Port Mafia. No weekends. No time off. Even as arguably their most useless member, you were still expected to show up day in and day out without complaint.

You didn't like to admit it, but his assignment had been weighing on you since you'd first found out about it. You didn't understand why he was being asked to go alone. Why he'd have to be there for two weeks. Why you even cared to begin with.

It'd been bleeding into everything you touched, your embroidery going from mindless patterns to things you couldn't possibly bring yourself to say out loud.

Your fingers moved with precision, adding dainty purple flowers around the words "please be safe" when the landline on your desk let out a shrill, unexpected ring.

You paused, staring at the phone with hesitant curiosity. You'd assumed up until now that it was a decorative prop. A piece of outdated technology to help add to the illusion that you had a real office rather than just an empty room to keep hidden away in for 9 hours. You were floored that it actually worked.

On the fourth ring, you finally caved, answering it with a reluctant, "Hello...?"

"You'd make a terrible receptionist, y'know that?"

You hated the smile that crept across your face as you twirled the phone cord around your index finger. "Don't you have anything better to do besides bother the help?"

"Nah, not really." You could hear the smirk in his voice. "Mori's finally out of my hair for a bit. Somethin' about needing to go check the status of one of our bases out in Tokyo so he should be gone the rest of the day."

"Hmm," You hummed, still fidgeting with the tangled wire. "Guess you'll have plenty of time to clean your office before you leave then."

He let out a semblance of a laugh, his tone still riddled with salacious arrogance as he said, "Get your ass in here." and hung up.

You drew in a shallow breath, mentally kicking yourself yet again for how little self-control you had as you stood up and made your way down the hall. Your skin had just healed from the marks he'd left on you and here you were, flirting with the possibility of getting more.

The door opened seconds after you'd knocked, a set of narrowed blue eyes and tousled red hair greeting you as you stepped into his dimly lit workplace.

You took a seat on the leather couch he had in the corner of the room, pretending not to notice as he locked the door behind you.

"Does Mori not pay you enough to have more than one lamp in here?"

He stood in front of you with his arms folded over his chest, a cocky grin breaking through his nonchalant demeanor. “Sorry, where does he have you working again? That tiny ass room that used to be the broom closet? Yeah, I bet the fluorescent lighting is way better in there.”

You bit back your own dumb smile, rolling your eyes as you crossed one leg over the other. "Did you drag me in here to just insult me or do you actually need something?"

"Depends, do you like being insulted?"

You could feel your body betray you, a telling shade of pink decorating your cheeks as you averted your gaze from his.

"Really?"

You didn't have to look at him to know how much it’d piqued his interest.

"Why are you going to Osaka?" You asked, eager to change the subject.

There was a subtle wave of seriousness that washed over him. His voice losing its playful edge as he rolled his shoulders with a sigh. "I can't really go into too much detail without making you a liability. The less you know about the shit that goes on around here, the better."

Your mouth open and then closed, the objection you had lined up dying on the tip of your tongue as you quietly nodded back at him. Even if you didn't want to accept his answer, you knew he was right.

"Aw, don't tell me you're actually worried about me?" He tilted his head at you, his stare softening when he caught the sincerity in your eyes as you looked back at him. "I'll be fine. Trust me, compared to the other missions I've had to go on, this is nothin'."

You had no choice but to trust him, you knew he was blunt enough to tell you the truth and if he wasn't stressed about leaving, then you couldn't be either. As easy as it was to forget, he wasn't just another member of Port Mafia, he was an executive. There was no way Mori would send him alone if he didn't think it was something he could handle.

"Honestly, I'm more worried about you." He said, breaking your train of thought by nudging your leg with his foot. "What're you gonna do for two whole weeks while I'm gone?"

You buried the rest of your concern with a shrug, uncrossing your legs as you shot him a small smile. "I don't know. Guess I'll have to start fooling around with Akutagawa to pass the time."

He nearly snorted he laughed so hard.

"What? You don't think I could have him if I wanted to?” It was infuriating how easy it was to banter back and forth with him like this. How effortless it was for you to both volley off one another without missing a beat.

He shook his head, trying not to burst into laughter again from the thought of you and his perpetually flustered coworker. "Nah, you could. Just think you'd be disappointed is all. Akutagawa wouldn't know what the fuck to do with a girl like you."

There was something about the way he said it that made the blood dance in your veins.

"Fine." You pressed, still wearing the same slight smile. "Tachihara then."

It was becoming a real problem, the way you loved toying with him as much as he loved toying with you.

"He wouldn't."

"I bet he would."

He bent down to become eye-level with you, butterflies flooding your stomach as he reached out to rest his hand under your chin, a gentle but firm grasp holding you in place. "You can try," he said, his thumb lightly dragging across your bottom lip. "But I don't think you'll have much luck."

"Why?" It was barely a whisper let alone an actual question.

You knew him well enough to know where this was more than likely going, but there was a depraved part of you that wanted to hear him say it. Needed to hear him say it.

"'Cause," His eyes glazed over as he leaned in, closing the already small gap between you so that you were forced to share the same breath. "Tachihara isn't dumb enough to touch things that belong to me."

Your heart was threatening to beat straight out of your chest. A week's worth of pent-up arousal nearly dripping onto his couch as you looked back at him without the faintest bit of restraint left in you.

All of the reasons why you'd been trying so hard to stay away from him suddenly held no real merit. They were lost to his touch. Completely eviscerated the moment his lips finally caught yours and his tongue swirled against you with the same tender urgency you'd been daydreaming about for the last five days. The future didn’t seem so pressing when the present was this heavenly.

Your legs parted without him having to ask, inviting his body to come between them while your hands travelled to the back of his neck. Desperate fingertips sinking into his skin in a feverish attempt to somehow pull him even closer.

"'Take it you're finally done ignorin' me?"

You nodded as you watched him push your skirt up, briefly pausing to take his gloves off with the same toothy method he’d used the last time you were in his office. You could tell it was a seldom act for him. Something he had to consciously remind himself to do, but only when he was with you.

"Good."

His mouth attentively returned back to yours, calloused but gentle fingers digging into the softness of your thigh while his thumb swiped your underwear to the side, granting him access to your weakest point.

"Fuck," he groaned, drawing light circles against you, reveling in the way your hips thrusted up for more.

As eager for a challenge as he was, he secretly loved how easy you were to please. How little it took to rob you of your composure and have your legs shaking around him. How pitiful you looked from only two of his digits slipping in and out of you. How your pupils would dilate in this delirious way each time he went deeper, but how you were still submissive enough to never break eye contact no matter how much you writhed and squirmed beneath him.

"Chuuya -"

"What is it baby?"

He could feel how close you were. Knew it wouldn't take much more to have you soaking him, but he couldn't leave for two weeks without making you cum on more than just his fingers. He needed to know what your walls felt like wrapped around him. What absolutely fucking dazed out noises you would make once he was inside of you.

He undid his belt with his freehand, not letting up on you as you grabbed onto the collar of his shirt.

"Fuck, yes. P - please." You whimpered, watching him stroke himself as he carefully lined up with your center. "Please, Chuuya, ohmygod, please."

"Jesus Christ." He choked out, reeling in how pretty you sounded begging for him. Almost not being able to stop himself as he watched you come completely undone, still pleading for his dick.

He moaned against you, forehead pressed to yours as he finally found the willpower to pull his fingers out of you. His tip had just barely made it past your entrance when a loud knock brought both of you to an insanely cruel and abrupt pause.

His hand flew over your mouth, fire flickering across his blue eyes as he drew in a sharp breath.

"What?" he called out through gritted teeth.

"Plan's changed." It was Tachihara. "Mori's back. He wants you to leave now instead of tomorrow."

"Now?" The anger in his voice was palpable. "Like, right now?"

"Yeah, he's waiting in the jet."

"You can't be fuckin' serious." He grumbled, a pained expression taking hold of him as he looked back down at you, removing his hand from your mouth.

"Gimme a minute." He yelled, silently trying to ration what he was supposed to do with your body still splayed so beautifully under his.

He wanted to fuck you. God damn, he wanted to ignore everything else in the entire world and fuck you into oblivion at this point, but he knew it wouldn't be fair to either of you to have to rush through it or be stressed about the fact that someone might barge in at any second.

It needed to be the right time because you both deserved it. Especially with how many mutual pent-up emotions there now were between you.

Pulling out of you was torture, but he didn't have a choice.

You could've cried, your heart and pussy both grieving the loss of something they'd never even had.

"I swear," He said, forehead back against yours, "As soon as I get back, it's me and you, okay?"

You nodded, doing your best to swallow down your emotions.

"Okay." You finally agreed, eyes still locked with his, a faint smile poking through your frustration. "But if you're not back in two weeks, don't be surprised when you see me and Akutagawa holding hands in the hallway."

He let out a half-hearted laugh as his lips met yours, kissing you in a way that he hadn't before. Soft, lingering... affectionate.

"Hey," you whispered seriously this time, "Please be safe."

"Promise."

And with that, you began redoing the buttons on your blouse and smoothing down your skirt while you watched him grab a jacket out of his armoire, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket.

"You smoke?"

"Only when I really need one."

He shot you a wink, wrapping his arm around your waist as he walked you out of his office, not caring at all who saw.

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You knew it would be awkward without him around, but you hadn't anticipated just how slow the next week would go by. You were tired. Out of ideas for cross-stitch patterns and nearly positive that your curled fingers weren't capable of creating anything else even if you wanted to.

You read manga to keep yourself busy. Looked up recipes on your phone. Took naps at your desk that left kinks in your neck. Called your friends from back home, trying to keep the conversation going long after there was nothing left to say. You were bored. Grateful to still be here, but ready for a day off that you knew wouldn't come.

The check you received on Friday was enough of a reason to stay though. It made the long days of staring at a wall worth it. You reminded yourself again and again that there would never be another job like this. That you might actually miss it one day.

You had no idea, however, just how quickly that day would actually come until you were rounding the corner back to your office and ran into Kyoto. She was the same peach-haired woman who had recruited you from the bar, only she was standing with a fresh face. A girl who looked to be about your age with big brown eyes, flowy blonde hair, and a skirt that was somehow even shorter than yours.

When you had first started, they'd told you that there would be other 'administrative assistants' coming eventually, but you'd almost forgotten about it until now.

Your eyes drifted from her to Kyoto, thinking there was surely no way you'd both be expected to share the same office with how small it was.

You started to extend a hand out to the blonde, ready to introduce yourself when you were promptly cut off by Kyoto.

"Your time here is up." She said curtly. "If there's anything you need to get out of your workstation, I suggest you do it now."

A vicious mix of anger and embarrassment churned in your stomach. "My time here is up?" You repeated blankly. "Why?"

"Mori's decided you're a distraction." She shot you a pointed look. "Especially to that of Nakahara. Now, get your things before I have you escorted out."

Your ears were ringing, your vision blurred by tears at how cold and sterile this all felt.

You went into your office for the last time, grabbing the thread kit and books out of your drawer as you made your way down the hall, looking back to see your replacement excitedly taking over the spot that was once yours.

Goodbye college, goodbye easy money, goodbye Chuuya.

You were able to hold yourself together on the train ride home and on the walk back, but the minute you made it into your apartment and closed the door behind you, everything all spilled out at once. Your crafts and manga falling from your hands as you sank down to the floor and sobbed.

You thought nothing could've been as mortifying as your first day with Port Mafia, but your last day had proved to be far worse. You were right back at square one and it felt terrible.

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The next few days were a blur of filling out online job applications and revamping your resume. You'd hardly eaten. Hardly showered. Hardly done anything that involved getting out of bed.

It was Sunday and rent was due tomorrow. You'd done the math in your head - you had enough money in your savings account to live here comfortably for the next three months without any additional income. If you really pushed yourself and lived uncomfortably, you could probably even skate by for four.

But no matter how much you tried to remind yourself that there was time, you still couldn't shake the feeling of failure that you'd been left with. If you'd been fired for other reasons, it might not have hurt as bad, but the fact that it really was your fault haunted you.

You took a breath, looking over yourself in the bathroom mirror. A combination of three-day old clothes and a knotted side-bun staring back at you. You decided if you were going to continue to sulk, you could at least do it in some fresh pajamas and washed hair.

The hot water felt good beading across your skin as you scrubbed off the grime and regret that had been stuck on you since the day you’d been let go. The air filling with the smell of vanilla as you exfoliated your legs and ran a conditioning treatment through your tangled locks.

You still didn't feel great, but you felt better and that was a start.

You threw on a white tank-top with a pair of oversized grey sweatpants, running a brush through your hair when you heard the buzz of your doorbell. You froze, looking down at your phone to see the time 11:11 flash across your screen.

You hadn't had a visitor since you'd moved here, let alone had someone stop by at almost midnight.

Your footsteps were light as you crept down your hallway, cautiously peeking through the slit in your door watching him impatiently ring the buzzer again, running a hand along the back of his neck while he waited.

"Chuuya?"

"You'd make a terrible doorman, y'know that?"

It was the first time you'd laughed in the last six days, your arms wrapping around him before you even had the chance to think about what you were doing.

He didn't seem to mind though, his hands locking around your waist as you both pulled each other closer. "How did you -" Your thoughts were everywhere. "How did you find my address?"

He let out a slight laugh, his breath fanning across your neck. “I told you it'd be me and you when I got back.”

There was something so sincere about the way he said it. Something so overwhelming about the way he was looking at you. Out of all the things you'd lost recently, you were incredibly thankful he wasn't one of them.

You let him in, locking the door as he followed you down the hall.

“Sorry," you said sheepishly, realizing that you were about to bring him into the messiest part of your apartment. "It's not always like this."

He took a moment to look over your bedroom. The thumb-tacked pictures of you and your friends that decorated the space above your bed. The string lights and cloud-patterned tapestry adorning the walls. The matching baby-pink sheets and comforter set.

It looked like you. It smelled like you. And no matter how many clothes there might've been scattered across the floor or mugs piled up on your nightstand, it was still way cozier than the hotels he'd been staying at over the last two weeks.

"Looks fine to me." He shrugged, taking off his jacket and tossing it onto a velvet chair next to your dresser. "How've things been since I've been gone?" he asked, taking a seat next to you on the bed with a small smirk. "You and Akutagawa official yet?"

Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared back at him, "Mori didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"I, um..." Your gaze was suddenly on the hem of your shirt as you began to fidget with it instead of looking at him. "I got fired."

"Mori fired you?" There was a sobering sharpness to his voice as he repeated it. "For what?"

You knew he'd find out one way or another, but it was still embarrassing having to relive your conversation with Kyoto. "For 'being a distraction.'" you sighed, your eyes hesitantly dragging up to his. "To you."

There was a brief moment of silence and then, a laugh.

“Huh,” he mused. “Well they're gonna be in for a real fuckin' surprise when you come in tomorrow then.”

You shook your head at him in quiet confusion. "Chuuya, I can't just show back up. Kyoto threatened to have me escorted out when I took more than five minutes to get my stuff out of my office."

His brow arched in a way that made your heart skip a beat.

"Did she?" The question was somehow calm despite the scornful undertone it carried. "Well," he breathed, gently tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "She's gonna really hate it when the entire building has to hear me fucking you. Every. Single. Day."

A sudden warmth washed over you, beginning at your cheeks and ending at your core as you blinked back at him cluelessly. "What are you talking about?"

"You're gonna be my personal assistant." The smirk he was wearing was lethal. "And I'll pay you more than that asshole ever did. Weekends off. Full benefits. Alla that."

"Are you -" He'd never lied to you before and you weren't sure why he'd start now, but you were struggling to wrap your mind around the fact that you'd just gone from being unemployed to promoted in a matter of minutes. "Are you serious?"

"Well yeah," He said simply, his grin softening a bit. "I mean, who else is gonna clean my office before I go on trips?"

You both smiled this time before your lips were immediately back on his. Eager, unreserved, bliss.

He fell back into the bed with you on top of him, his hands gliding along your curves while you straddled him. The flimsy straps of your tank-top slipping down your arms as you hovered over him, kissing and nipping at his neck.

He didn't care if you left marks on him. Didn't care if he showed up tomorrow smelling like your perfume with blatantly obvious bites covering his collarbone. He wanted everyone to know if they didn't already. Wanted them to stare and whisper and drop fucking dead at the sight of the two of you walking in together. It made him feral just thinking about it.

Your hips were rocking against him, your center aligned perfectly with his as you moaned at the friction your movements were creating. You could feel him growing hard beneath you, his fingers tugging at the waistband of your sweats.

"Here." he said in-between breaths, helping you out of them and tossing them onto the floor.

You started to pick up where you left off, but he stopped you, swiftly undoing his belt and adding his pants and boxers into the sea of discarded clothing too. You hadn't even been able to see it until now. Hadn't been able to fully appreciate the length and fucking girth of his cock up until this very moment.

You left another kiss on his neck and then on his chest and then on his torso, meticulously leaving them all over while making your descent down to the one place you so desperately wanted to be.

He watched you with wide eyes, your hand wrapping perfectly around him as you looked up and slowly ran your tongue along the side of his base.

"Fuuuck." His voice was heady, his hands tangling into your hair as you made your way up to his tip.

You opened your mouth wider, almost wondering how it was going to fit, but you managed. Taking him inch by inch, going down further each time until you developed a steady rhythm.

You understood why he liked going down on you so much. The noises he was making were gorgeous. Groaning out sweet little nothings the faster you went. "Doin' so fucking good for me, baby." "God, you're so pretty, y'know that?"

You kept one hand on him, gliding him in out of your mouth as the other trailed down to your clit. Feeling your own slick between your fingers only made you all the more blitzed out. You were sucking and moaning and watching him stare down at you like you had put the stars in the sky as you fingered yourself while somehow still staying focused on him.

"C'mere." It was the first coherent thing he'd said since your tongue had so lavishly graced him.

He gave your hair a gentle tug, pulling you back up so that you were almost sitting on top of him.

"I need to feel you so fuckin' bad, you have no idea." he breathed, lining himself up with you, feeling how wet you were before you'd even lowered yourself onto him.

His hands rested on your hips, your grip back around his base as you centered yourself over him.

It’d been so much just to take in your mouth, you were almost afraid of how bad this would hurt, but he was aware of his size. Letting you go at your own pace as he helped keep you steady.

The stretch he provided you with from the first couple of inches alone was noticeable, but heavenly. Your eyebrows knitting together as you looked back at him. A dazed, poutiness taking over you the further down you went.

You took him in deeper and deeper until finally, you were fully riding him.

"There you go, fuck - just like that."

He watched your head lull back, your hand reaching for his as you continued to grind against him. Both of you losing control as he began to thrust into you.

Your eyes went wide, his name echoing across the room while your walls spasmed around him.

"Sucha good girl."

His praises only made you go faster, one of your hands still locked around his and the other now palming at your chest. Squeezing your nipple between your index and ring finger as you looked back down at him. "Chuuya - 'm -"

It was hard to tell where his moans stopped and yours began, the carnal sounds synchronizing the deeper he plunged into you.

He felt another clench, and then, he was suddenly drowning in you. Completely unable to hold himself together anymore as you soaked him.

"Cum inside me." you whimpered, "Please, Chuuya. I wanna feel it. Please, please - fuck, baby, please.”

It didn't take you begging to convince him, but it certainly made it happen faster.

His ocean eyes rolled back as he thrusted into you, absolutely enamored by the sounds you were making. The way you were pleading and pouting as he filled you.

It somehow made every daydream he’d had about you seem lackluster in comparison. You were beautiful you were his.

You both stilled for a moment, trying to catch your breath before looking back at each other with the same exhausted smile.

He pulled out of you slowly, letting you collapse onto his chest as he ran light fingers through your hair. "You should probably set an alarm for tomorrow." He exhaled. "I heard your new boss is a real asshole."

"Oh yeah," You mused, leaning up so that your lips were ghosting his. "He's the worst."

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#chuuya smut #bsd smut #chuuya nakahara #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya #soukoku #rem writes

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a-b-riddle · 1 month

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Know Your Place (2)

The knot of guilt had twisted into straight up anxiety. You didn't do repeats, but fuck if you didn't want to feel Johnny's mouth against you again. He treated you like you wanted to be treated: cared for and absolutely defiled.

It was electrifying.

And it terrified you.

You rarely canceled hookups when they had gotten to the point where the one night delight had sent you confirmation of their STD panel. Yet here you were sprinting to the hotel where you had met Johnny a month ago.

And when you walked back into that lobby, it was dejavú.

He was sitting at the bar; eyes glued to the door. He’d been waiting. Just like last time. Maybe that's what had set the night off to such a different start. He wasn't scrolling on his phone or making idle chit chat with the bartender to pass the time. He had made it known in subtle ways that as much as this may have been a means to blow off steam, it was about being with you.

With as much confidence as you could muster, you sauntered over to him, heart fluttering wildly in your chest. His tight navy blue Henley was doing him and you a favor. His denim jeans would undoubtedly hug his ass in such a way it was make you and sculptors envious.

The bastard was handsome and he damn well knew it.

"What changed yer mind?"

Fuckkkkkkkk

Fuck. You remembered he had an accent, but fuck you forgot how it practically made you pray that he was the type of man who liked to dirty talk, give directions.

Prayers: answered.

You shrugged. Trying to come off as nonchalant when in reality you couldn't get out of that lounge soon enough. "I wanted to do it again." Jesus. Be a little less brash. "With you." You quickly add. Fuck, why was this so awkward. "I wanted to do this again with you."

Those blue eyes scaled up and down your body, taking you in. It didn't matter that you knew he wanted you. It didn't matter that he had seen you naked. It didn't matter that he had told you multiple times how fucking stunning he found you. There was always that nagging feeling in the back of your head going

Is he looking at my stomach? God, I shouldn't have worn this. i should have worn spanx. I look like a busted can of biscuits.

The ugly thoughts almost made you shift in discomfort under his gaze, but you held firm, reciting your mantra in your head.

You are desirable. You are worth pleasure. You are in control.

“Ye want it like last time or are ye goin’ to let me fuck you properly?” And just like that, your confidence was taken down a peg. You had took penetrative sex off the table for about two years. It wasn't anything traumatizing, it wasn't painful. It just wasn't as good.

You've found that there was an assumption that bigger girls were able to take it more roughly. And after a few times of men treating their dicks like battering rams, intercourse was a course that was no longer on the menu. Plus with the only option being oral, you mostly always came and your partners were far more enthusiastic. Win-win.

“I can’t cum that way.” You crossed your arms, your tits perking up in hopes of making him remember how good it felt to titty fuck you. How hot you looked with his cum all over your face and chest. When his eyes didn't leave yours, you decided to relent. He gave you the best not one, not two, but three orgasms of your life and if you had stayed like he had asked, he probably would have given you several more. At this point you were curious. If his mouth can do all those deliciously despicable things, you wanted to know what his cock could do.

“Don’t get upset if I don’t.” You ordered, not caring if the bartender heard you. “I haven’t faked it since college and so my pornstar moaning may not be up to par." Johnny smirked before shooting the rest of the amber colored liquor in front of him.

He stood up, practically towering over you before leaning in and whispering, “Oh, I’ll have ye moanin’ just fine, Bonnie.”

Yep.

Definitely curious.

There was no foreplay this. No slow undressing. Not delicately exploring each other's bodies. It was feral and carnal and something neither of you had anticipated. Not even desire, but pure need to be touching each other again.

Johnny's shirt was the first thing that was taken off, and before the door had even fully closed. His mouth was on yours instantly. Tasting you as if it let him breathe easier. His hands worked at the zipper of your dress with expertise. Not allowing it to fall from the floor before he started working on your bra. His mouth never leaving yours.

You normally would reprimand a date for their eagerness, but you needed this just as much as he did. Needed his hands on you, in you. And more importantly you knew that Johnny can deliver you to paradise on a silver fucking platter.

By the time both of you were fully undressed, the sound of soft pants filled the room as if both of you had forgotten to pull away from the other's lips and come up for air. When you did, your brain went on autopilot.

You sank down to you knees in front of him. One hand resting on your thigh while the other took hold of him. He sucked in air through his clenched teeth as one of his hands made its way home into the crown of your hair.

Seeing him stare down at you with glossy eyes and an open mouth made you promptly spit on the head of his cock. Stroking your hand up and down to coat his entire shaft.

"Fuckin' Christ," he groaned. "I dinnae stand a chance with you, did I?" You weren't what he meant. Did he think he was the reason you initially didn't want to meet up again? Or was it something else? No. It couldn't be.

In response you gave his shaft a tight pump. And another. And another. Rolling your wrist against his already leaking head. Not breaking eye contact you dragged your tongue up the underside of his cock before taking the tip in your mouth. Flattening your tongue and teasing the slit, feeling the ridges underneath before taking him deep into your throat.

Tears prickled your eyelids as you felt him pulsing in your mouth. "That goddamn mouth." His eyes shut in concentration. "Need ye to stop before I fuckin' cum, Bonnie." It was a warning that you didn't plan on listening to. At least not until his grip in your hair tightened, still soft enough not to be painful, but firm enough to make your soaked cunt clench.

"Naughty fuckin' minx." he growled hoarsely. "Think I'd just come down your throat and we'd be done?" You nod, his hand loosening with your movement. "You'll have to be punished for that. Trying to make me cum two minutes in like a goddamn school boy." His blue eyes burned into you. You had almost wished he came if not to give him the same euphoric feeling he was giving you, right now and without even touching where you ached the most.

"Open your thighs and let me look at that pretty pussy. " His voice was gravely and stern. You leaned back, pressing your palms against the cool hardwood floor as you parted your thighs. He wasted no time in crouching down and sliding his fingers through your slick folds.

"Fuck." You whimpered as he softly grazed your clit with each stroke. Never missing.

"This all mine?" He asked. You let out a weakened yeah before your body bucked. "So sensitive." His mocking tone pulled out that masochistic part of you that loved to be degraded. "On the bed, on your knees."

You got off your knees, feeling the blood return to your feet from being in such an awkward position on the floor. You obeyed his orders, letting him take control even though that was not what either of you had in mind.

"So what are you gonna do?" You attempt to add a sense of mocking to your tone, but you're breathless. Definitely getting in some cardio tonight. "I'm not much into corporal beatings. I'm a fan of the occasional swat, but not really a get over my knee and count type of girl."

"No, but I plan to make you beg to cum," he said, the hair on his hair tickling your back. "And make you see how good you can take my cock."

He gripped your cheeks, kneading and spreading them before settling his eyes on what he had been after. "So I take it you're an ass man." You say it with such casualty he had no choice but to bark out a laugh.

"No, Bonnie," he answered, giving the flesh a firm squeeze. "I'm a this-ass man." He leaned forward, stroking his tongue over the puckered ring. Having to hold you by the fat of your ass, giving it a squeeze to keep you in place.

"Oh my god." Your hands gripped the bed sheets, mouth hanging open and eyes clinched shut. Fuck. Oral was on the table, but neither of you had talked about rimming. Most guys you knew never mentioned it and honestly with how some men kept up with their personal hygiene, you weren't exactly up for returning the favor. But if Johnny made you feel like this, you would gladly reciprocate.

He brought his hand down, stroking the back of your thigh, his tongue never stopping as he slid two fingers inside you. You instinctively slid your knees further apart, granting him easier access.

Good pet. If Johnny's tongue hadn't been working your asshole he would have delivered the words of praise just to gauge your reaction at the name. Pet.

"I'm so close." You moaned. "Please don't stop." Your pleading was cute, but it wasn't enough.

"No," he said, slowing down his fingers. "I'm not gonna give it to ye' til yer beggin. Ye' wanted to make the rules. No penetration. No repeats. Ye' said ye' don't cum from fucking and I'm about to break that rule too."

You weren't sure if it was agony or the best thing you ever felt, but he resumed his work. Only slowing down when you began to rock against his face and tighten around his fingers before he would slow down or pull away.

After the 8th time your orgasm escaped you, you kicked your feet against the bed in the cutest fucking tantrum the man had ever witnessed. "Johnny, please!" you begged.

"Please, what?" He teased, his breathe now blowing against your weeping, sore cunt. "What do you need, Bonnie?"

"Please make me come. Please fuck me. Pleaaaaassseee. Just let me come." You practically squealed out when his fingers entered you again. Pressing your face into the pillow you able to muffle your pitiful, pathetic cry.

"Fuck ye?" He taunted, curling his fingers as he kneeled behind you. The tip of his cock brushing against the inside of your thigh. Fuck. It was too heavy to even go upright. "Thought that sort of thing didn't work for ye."

"Johnny, please." you said, shaking your ass like a bitch in heat. Looking for more friction. "I can't-- fuck-- you have to--- please." You couldn't think you just needed this knot inside of you to unwind before it ripped you apart.

"Ye beg so pretty for me." He said, stroking his cock as you started to lose your mind. "Makes me almost feel sorry for ye, but you need more control than that." He tsked as he took his hand out and brushed the back of his fingers against your puffy cunt. Stifling a laugh as you jerked away. "Is it too much?" He asked, lining his cock up and stroking your folds.

"Please." You whimpered and that was it. Johnny knew that you weren't leaving him a second time. Not when he looked in the mirror to the right and could see how your mascara began to run down your face. You're the perfect girl for them. The perfect pet.

"Tell me, Bon. Need me to finish ye' off?" He asked pushing the tip in and only pulling away when you attempt to throw your ass against him. Huffing when he did.

"Yes!" You cried. "Please please please."

His hand snaked around your throat, cupping your jaw before he turned your head to look into the mirror. Your bodies glistened with sweat and the sight was something you would keep stored in your memory forever.

"I want ye you to see how fuckin' gorgeous you look while yer takin' my cock." He growled out, his tone darker than you had ever heard him before.

"Yes, sir." You breathed out. Another remind on how you'd adjust easily with them.

He slowly slid into you and for that you were thankful. The burn of the stretch equaled the pleasure that coursed through you as he filled you.

His slow deep thrusts made your head swirl. Over and over, the sounds of your sopping wet cunt and soft moans and groans escaping the two of you. You braced yourself as he started picking up the pace, but it still wasn't enough. You still teetered on that edge, so close to tipping over.

For several minutes he fucked you knowing that you were so close to coming, but being too much of a sick bastard to give in without you showing him how desperate you were for it.

"Rough," you eventually sobbed, your back arching as your head fell against the bed. "Want you- rough, please." You choked back a scream as he drove his hips foward.

"Keep those fucking eyes open and don't you dare cum until I tell ye' to," was his only demand as he held onto your waist and fucked you how he wanted to that first night.

Sounds of slapping flesh and soft whimpers filled the room as Johnny brought you to seeing the face of god.

"Johnny Johnny," you squealed your orgasm gaining on you. It wasn't until you felt his thumb applying just the right amount of pressure on your asshole did you begin to fall apart. "fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck."

Some books say that orgasms are like seeing stars or electricity coursing through your body. In reality it is waves. Waves of euphoria crashing down. It's that high you get from holding your breath too long and taking that much awaited breath.

Johnny's orgasm quickly followed and when you felt his cock pulsing inside you, it brought on another orgasm. Johnny hissed as you tighten against his now sensitive cock, but admiring the sight when he pulled out.

His spend leaked out of you.

"Guess we got kind of caught up. Dinnae even think about getting a rubber." It wasn't an apology, but he at least wanted to seem like he was sorry for coming inside you.

"UDI." You replied, eyes closed and head still reeling from the aftershock of that second orgasm.

"What?" He asked, making you realize you were incoherent and most likely stroking his ego even more.

"IUD, fuck, sorry." You correct. He let out a chuckle before you rolled over, arm covering your eyes as you try to gain some You felt his cum begin to slide down to your thighs. "I'm gonna go clean up." You inform before rolling awkwardly off the bed, if not to save the poor maids from having to see the evidence on the sheets.

When you came back into the room, Johnny was on the bed. Still naked as a jaybird with his softened cock resting against his thigh.

This was always the awkward part. The departure. The gathering of clothes and minimal eye contact.

"Well, I should be-" you started bending over to retrieve your bra before he stopped you.

"If ye fuckin' leave like ye did last time that ass of yours will be meetin' my belt, now lay down."

"Excuse me?" your tone is more confused if anything. He said it without a hint of anger, authority or sterness and yet you had to refrain from scurrying into the bed.

"I get ye' may not be a cuddlin' type of gal, but I am a cuddlin' type a man. Leaving me without the proper aftercare isn't a good look on ye, Bonnie." He threw you a lopsided grin. His hands resting on the back of his hands, making you want to see if riding those biceps of his would get you off as easily as it would riding his face.

"Besides," he shrugged. "Ye' came before I let you."

"I tried to hold it off." You argued before dropping your bra back unto the floor and crawling next to him. "I just never had to."

"That's the whole point." He said, rolling over to face you. "Seeing ye come undone whether ye want to or na." He scooted closer. The front of his body touching yours as his hand came up to cradle your jaw. Lightly brushing his thumb against your bottom lip as he spoke. "And ye'd been so adamant about not being able to cum on my cock. Such a good girl for me."

"So you're not going to punish me?" You tried to mock, but were actually curious about what kind of man Johnny really was in bed. He had no problem taking control, but what other kinks did he have lurking below the surface.

"I can punish ye," he winked. "but I think ye might like it too much." You huffed air out of your nose, wanting to bury your head into his chest, worried that the action may be too intimate for what this was.

What you were.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kidnapping #dark ghoap #ghoap x reader #stockholm syndrome #curvy reader

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sommerbueckers · 6 months

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My Brother's Best Friend Pt3??

(smut😏)

A small breeze crept through my open window and a chill settled in my bedroom. I typed away on my computer, trying to finish up the last of my homework before Thanksgiving break came to an end. The week had been exactly what I thought it'd be and some change; Paige and Micha came home from college and spent the entirety of the break playing Fortnite and arguing over silly superheroes. The rest of the Bueckers family joined us for Thanksgiving dinner too where Drew graced us with a few of his dance moves. And to top it all off, I had gotten a 25% discount on a pair of Ugg boots for being the first person to purchase from the website on Black Friday.

I finished off the last of the water in my bottle, twisting the cap back on and tossing it toward the trash. I missed, badly. The sound of the plastic defeatedly hitting floor echoed through the room, though it wasn't louder than the laugh that came after it. I snapped my head to my door to find Paige standing there with her arms crossed, leaning against the frame. She had that adorable stupid smile plastered on her face as she looked at me.

"That couldn't have been worse if you tried" she laughed.

I rolled my eyes, twisting the chair around as I said, "Micha isn't here."

"I know that," she nodded, "I just got off the phone with him."

"So...why're you here?" I frowned.

"What? I can't visit my favorite cheerleader now?" the blonde asked with a pout, "That hurts my heart Sunny."

My unimpressed look didn't falter.

After a moment of silence she sighed, seemingly struggling to say what she was thinking.

"You and Micha are driving back today, shouldn't you be packing or something?" I asked, "Unless I've got the date wrong."

I stood up and walked over to the calendar I had hooked on the wall. My eyes traveled over to the large red circle, inside the writing read 'Paige and Micha go bye-bye:(.'

Paige cleared her throat from behind me, "No, you've got it right."

I turned around, staring at her from across the room.

"I just-"

"You just what?" I interrupted without thinking.

"I came to say goodbye" she admitted.

"Goodbye to me?"

"Yes you."

"Why me?"

"Jesus Sunny!" she exclaimed with a smile, "I can't say 'goodbye' to you?"

"No you, you can," I stammered.

Paige nodded contently, "Good."

She pushed off the doorway and began walking toward me, her arms opening the closer she got. I wasted no time wrapping my arms around her neck and pulling her close to me. We hugged for a little lot longer than we should've, both too embarrassed to say it but not enough to show it. I breathed in her scent, hoping to remember it long enough for it to last until I saw her again.

I loved the way I had to stand on my toes to reach her, how she never complained about having to bend over to hug me. Though truth be told I don't think she really minded.

I had gotten used to the sound of her laughter again as it rang throughout the house, how she always did the same celebration dance when she beat Micha in a game, how she never failed to make me feel seen whenever we were in the same room. I was crushing so hard on this girl it wasn't even funny.

When we pulled away, she took a step back.

"Were you serious when you said you were gonna unplug your tv if one of my games came on?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"And miss the chance to see you all sweaty? No way..." I smirked.

She laughed loudly, I wanted to record it and add it to my Spotify playlist. Instead, I checked my watch and sighed.

"What time are you guys leaving?" I asked.

Paige shrugged, "Not sure, whenever he gets back I guess."

"Hmm," I hummed, "that could take hours."

I stepped closer.

"Yeah," she laughed, "or he could be back any minute."

She stepped closer.

At that point, you could cut the tension with a knife. I stared at her; ski slope nose, blue eyes, perfect teeth hiding behind those perfect lips. I just needed to last until winter break, that was only two weeks. I had gone far longer than that before, so surely I could do that...couldn't I? God I needed wanted her so bad.

In an instant her lips were on mine, her hands cupping my face as she held me in place. For a moment I was frozen, my eyes wide with shock while my brain processed what was happening. And when it did...boy did things take a turn. I pulled her closer by her shirt, our bodies pressing against each other as much as they could.

I felt her hands move from my face down to my ass, squeezing roughly. I laughed when her tongue slipped into my mouth, sending a fuzzy feeling from my chest down to my thighs. I couldn't help but let out the quietest moan at the feeling, my need for her growing with every second that passed.

I couldn't believe this was happening; Paige and I, me and Paige. It felt like sophomore year all over again, except I was sure by now, both of us had gained enough experience to actually have some fun. The thought of Paige fucking other girls was almost enough to make me cringe...almost. I didn't though, because right now those other girls didn't matter, I did.

She turned us around and pressed me against my vanity, my hands immediately grasping the edge of it to keep me from losing my balance.

We broke away from our kiss, giggling like schoolgirls at the way my perfume bottles and lotions had fallen from the sudden force.

"Too much?" she asked breathlessly.

I shook my head, "Not enough."

As she reconnected our lips, she trailed her hand up and down my inner thigh. I opened my legs, giving her access to where she wanted.

"Wider" she said.

I obliged, parting my legs further to allow her hand to trail closer to my spot.

This girl could tell me to jump and I'd ask 'How high?'

I felt her hand slide into the waistband of my leggings, and by her smile, I knew she had discovered how intense my need for her had gotten. I knew I was soaked, she knew I was soaked...now what was gonna be done about it?

She rubbed my clit through my panties so painfully slow that I could feel myself crumbling bit by bit.

I whined as I threw my head back, "Faster Paige, please faster."

She placed soft kisses on my neck, teasing me as she moved my panties from side to side. I was fucking throbbing. When she had finally had enough, she slowly began moving her fingers up and down my folds. I moved my hips to match the pace, my shaky breaths filing the room.

Up and down.

Circles.

Up and down.

Circles.

The patterns were driving me insane, and my shaky breaths soon turned into tiny whimpers. I wanted to come at the sight of her: staring down at me hungrily with those gorgeous eyes. Her lip taken in between her teeth as she focused her attention on pleasing me.

I was a needy mess. My face rested in a permanent pout as we held eye contact, my cheeks growing hot. She laughed lowly, almost as if she was teasing me. I felt her fingers speed up as she rubbed circular motions on my clit, it was so sensitive it almost hurt.

"F-fuck...just like that" I moaned out, nodding my head.

"Mmm you like that?" she smirked, once again changing her speed.

"Yes..." I whispered breathlessly.

Her middle finger razzed my entrance, pushing in only a little before pulling back out. She was enjoying the effect she had on me, the way she gauged my face for a reaction every time she did something new gave her away. Steadily, she inserted a finger. I gasped, sucking in all the air around me. I smiled at the sound that cut through the silence as she began to fuck me. Having to hear how wet I was for her was embarrassing, but I didn't even care.

"Faster" I pleaded shamelessly.

She laughed.

"Tell me how much you want it" she demanded.

She wanted me to talk? Of all things that she could've been hearing: moans, whimpers, strings of curse words as she fucked me senseless, she wanted to hear sentences? When I didn't respond she pulled her finger out, her left hand gripping the back of my neck while her right rested just outside of my entrance.

"I want it," I said, my voice pathetically desperate, "I want it so fucking bad."

She smiled smugly, giving me the most delicate kiss on my lips that I had ever gotten. She didn't back away as she slammed two fingers into me, listening for my reaction. She didn't have to listen very hard because the scream that I had let out was loud enough to alert the neighbors. She couldn't hold back her laughter as she watched my face contort from the pain and pleasure. She began pumping her fingers in and out, giving me time to adjust to it before quickening her pace.

"You're doing so good for me" she whispered, not taking her eyes off mine. "You take me so well."

I tried to play it cool but I just couldn't. I had gripped her shoulder tightly with one hand while keeping the other firmly behind me. The most pitiful moans fell from my lips as she started to speed up. I was practically dripping as I came close to my climax. I tried to hold it, not wanting this euphoric feeling to end, but I couldn't help it as I tightened around her.

"You gonna be a good girl and come for me, hm?" she asked teasingly.

"Y-yes" I panted.

"Yeah I know you are, go 'head mama" she cooed.

I buried my head into her shoulder as I came, my sweet cries muffled by the fabric of her t-shirt. She held her fingers in me for a moment, helping me through my orgasm before carefully sliding them out. I shuddered at the absence of them.

She smiled proudly at her hand, slowly bringing it to her mouth and sucking her fingers clean. She's definitely done that before. She pulled me in for a hug and kissed my head, "You're so adorable."

I smiled against her chest, and that's when we heard the front door open. Micha was home.

"I think that's my cue" she murmured into my hair.

I nodded sadly. "Two weeks?"

"Two weeks."

OKAY GIVE ME ANOTHER CHANCE ???🙏🏼🙏🏼 This smut was not very good but it's literally my first time ever ACTUALLY writing it so...how'd I do???

Just let me get some more practice and I promise y'all won't be disappointed, trust. Also this wasn't proofread so if there are any typos or whatever that's my bad...

#paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers #uconn wbb #brother's best friend #smut #wlw post

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vivwritesfics · 10 months

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Going to be a little self indulgent but how about Lestappen or Charlando and reader is so overworked and exhausted from studying. But she’s worn herself down so bad while the boys were gone they come back to her like that! Hope this is okay, I haven’t requested something in so long 🥺🩵💙🩵

Grief makes me write apparently

"Yes Max, I promise I'll sleep," Y/N said into the phone as she held it between her head and her shoulder. "I'll just stay up long enough to watch the first corner."

"Mijn liefje, no. You've got a test tomorrow; you need sleep," Max said as he sat in his drivers room, using the last piece of privacy he had before the race. "Promise me you'll prioritise sleep over us."

Actually, Y/N's test was that day. Her test was in six hours, actually, and she hadn't yet gotten any sleep. She'd been either calling her boyfriends while he could or watching videos of them online. Y/N had tried to sleep. And if she wasn't sleeping, she was trying to study, but even that was proving fruitless.

"Okay, Maxie, I'll try," she muttered and wished him good luck for the race. They said goodbye and around a thousand 'I love you's' before Y/N hung up.

She scrolled down to the next name on her contact list.

Lightning Mclerc 🏎💖

Y/N swiped her finger across the screen and pressed the phone against her ear.

There was a good minute before Charles picked up the phone. "Chérie!" Charles cheered as he answered the phone. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

Y/N let out something of a sigh as she leaned back in her desk chair. "I've already done this with Max," she mumbled.

"So you should be sleeping."

"I just wanted to wish you good luck before the race."

"Aw," she heard Charles say down the phone. "Thank you, mon amour. Good luck with your test tomorrow."

She thanked him quickly. "Charlie," she began, dragging out the eeeee. "When are you guys coming home?"

"Soon, baby. As soon as the race is over, Max and I will come home to you."

"Thank you, Charlie. I miss you guys so much."

"I miss you too, Chérie."

After making her promise to try and get some sleep, Y/N hung up the phone. But she couldn't sleep. She had the build up to the race on in the background as she tried to study for her test and complete her essay. It wasn't going to tell.

Within half an hour Y/N was asleep, drooling on her notes.

She woke just a few hours later to her phone, blaring in her ear. She woke with a start, almost falling out of her chair. "Holy shit," she mumbled, wiping the drool from her face. Her notes were a mess, the ink smudged to the point of being unreadable. "Fuck, shit, fuck," she mumbled as she tried to sort through them.

Y/N made her way out to her test. She wasn't prepared, not in the slightest. The boys had probably just finished her race by the time she was heading out towards her campus.

Throughout the entire test, Y/N was sweating. Her hands were shaking as she wrote, but she got through it. She answered every question with little confidence, but the questions were answered, at least.

After the test, Y/N didn't speak to anybody. She walked out of her exam and made her way straight home, straight into her bed, trying her best to sleep.

She couldn't sleep. No. The test may have been over, but Y/n couldn't stop thinking about it. She couldn't go back, couldn't change her answers now, but she was still stressed about it.

Suddenly, the door to her apartment opened. Y/N jumped out of her bed, dressed in Charles' old Ferrari shirt, and made her way to the door.

There they were. Her boys. Tired and exhausted after the first ever race in Vegas, but they were there. They could have gone home to Monaco, but they'd gone to Y/N's instead.

"Oh my god," she muttered as she walked into their awaiting arms. "You're here. You're actually here." Her face was buried in Charles' chest as Max wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

"We missed you too, Schat. So, so much," he said, pressing a kiss to her neck.

"How was your test, Chérie?" Asked Charles as Max took their things into the bedroom.

Y/N didn't answer. She kept her face buried in Charles' chest as he walked her further into the apartment. Not good, that much he could pick up on. The test hadn't gone well at all.

When Charles released her, Max grabbed her shoulders and turned her towards him. "You look so tired, schat. Have you been sleeping?"

She nodded her head. Maybe it wasn't enough sleep, but it was still sleep. "But you guys must be tired, too," she said, leaning against them.

The boys settled on the sofa as Y/N ran to grab her laptop. "What're you doing?" Charles asked as she settled down between them.

"Uni work," she answered quickly as she opened the lid.

Before she could type in her passcode, Max pushed the laptop shut. "No, baby. You've just had a test. You can relax, now," he said as he placed her laptop down.

Reluctantly, Y/N accepted it. She cuddled up to her boys as the three of them watched television. If they weren't going to let her burnout, so be it (actually no, she was very grateful that they were forcing her to take a break. Y/N never would have done it on her own.).

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btsgotjams27 · 1 year

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things you don't know | jjk

summary: it’s been seven years since you last saw the boy that broke your heart. after moving back home, you try everything you can to avoid seeing him around town, but destiny has a wicked way of doing the opposite.

✨ title: things you don't know | one shot ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader | ✨ rating: M/17+ ✨ genre/au: angst | ex best friends!au | ✨ word count: 4.3k ✨ warnings: language, drinking, light kisses, miscommunication, reader jokes about unaliving her other best friend, mentions of throwing up ✨ prompt: “i thought i’d never see you again” ✨ a/n: heyoooo. so this is loosely based off a friendship i had in high school and in case you're wondering (irl) i haven't seen this man in over 17 years (oh gawd i'm old). anyway, thank you to @shina913 for being my beta.

✨ mini-series masterlist ✨

You were a fool to believe nothing could tear you and your best friend apart. Just like in the movies you'd watch for hours, you realized you were not the main character; he was. You were only part of the supporting cast, the best friend–not the one he wanted. Someone else had been occupying his mind, his thoughts, and you guessed you weren't privy to know all of him.

You wondered if you became the villain in his story. Were you the other woman? How could you have known if he never told you? He was your best friend. The one you shared everything with–your hopes, dreams, and even the dumbest little details of your life.

And maybe you expected too much. Maybe you had built a world of sunshine and rainbows and believed no storms could ever weather through. Maybe you cared too much, thinking he felt the same.

But at long last, you had become the girl jealous of Josie–the person who took away your best friend.

The city you lived in had grown vastly the last time you were here. Multiple lanes were added to the highways, and fields of land were cleared out for new homes, shops, and restaurants to try. Though the only thing on your mind was not bumping into him.

His was the only face you didn't want to run into in a city that felt familiar and unfamiliar. It felt silly. You're a grown woman with a car and an apartment–had bills to pay, and running into one person shouldn't haunt you as it did.

You might have done some detective work, going through old high school friends lists on Facebook and Instagram, lurking to see if he would show up. But as you suspected, he didn't exist on social media, so your chances of seeing him increased in your weird little mind.

The old hangout places were on your no-go list. Remember, you're trying to avoid him. He has not been on your mind every waking second, minute and hour. You weren't wondering how he was doing or if he was okay. He didn't deserve to occupy your mind, take all your energy.

But if you were to bump into him, you had a monologue ready to tell him how he had fucked up your mind, spiked all your insecurities, and hoped he and his stupid little girlfriend lived unhappily ever after. He deserved that, at least.

"Did you see Lillie's Instagram post? The one where a bunch of them were out celebrating Josie's birthday?" Lana asked, sipping on her iced vanilla latte. Lana was another high school best friend who didn't stomp all over your heart.

And regarding Lillie's post, it was hard not to see it when everyone you knew was tagged. Some things never change, you guessed. The same circle of friends, the same drama, the same gossip, but then again, you were sitting with one of your oldest friends.

"Yeah, I saw it."

And you also noticed how Jungkook wasn't in any photos. After doing your detective research and scouring through the internet. He was a ghost, not even showing up in tagged photos. You were hoping to get a glimpse of him in the background, but you hadn't seen a picture of him in years, so you had no idea if he had grown into that big 'ol nose of his or if he had gotten those piercings and tattoos he's always wanted. There was no trace of this man, not even in Josie's pictures.

Last you heard, they were still together, and you always rolled your eyes hard, remembering what Jeon Jungkook did to you. Didn't even have the fucking balls to say it to your face, but in a letter instead.

You suspected it was all Josie's fault. Probably afraid you'd steal him away, or he'd prefer to hang out with you. And you understood, he wasn't your boyfriend or anything, just a friend. Ex-best friend, that is. So you supposed any girl that did like Jungkook would be intimidated by your friendship.

"Have you seen Jungkook at all?"

Lana knew what went down–dropping you like a fly, like you didn't exist. She had teased you like a madwoman because you were crushing hard on his friend, Jimin, and somehow ended up befriending Jungkook.

"Nope," you said flatly.

"So, you know how we always talk about Jungkook being untraceable? I think I found him," she said, pulling out her phone.

Your jaw clenched before huffing out a breath. Lana liked to poke the bear when it came to Jungkook. You knew it wasn't intentional, and there was a part that held onto those painful memories because you weren't over what he did to you. Countless nights of questions and if you could've done anything to save your friendship. Wondering what you did wrong and why he picked Josie instead of you. You thought he had feelings and just didn’t want to act on it.

Lana slid the phone over, her two fingers zooming in on a brightened photo. "It's definitely Jungkook," she pointed to a figure in the background.

You narrowed your eyes as she moved the photo around. Your heart skipped a beat. You'd recognize that nose anywhere. It was him. He wasn't a ghost. There was actual evidence that he existed.

"I searched for more photos, but nothing else came up."

You chuckled. "Of course not. Jeon Jungkook doesn't exist on social media. It was never his thing anyway. It was always Josie who liked the attention."

"As a couple, they make no sense to me. What does he see in her anyway?" Lana pondered, sucking up the last of her latte.

Josie was popular and pretty and did every extracurricular activity known to man. Jungkook was quite the opposite: introverted, kept to himself, played games day and night, yet somehow they still ended up together.

"I don't know. Maybe she has a great personality or something," you answered.

She had everything and could’ve had anyone in the senior class, and something always bothered you about their relationship. You just couldn’t put your finger on it.

Lana could see your despair and decided to change the subject. "What are you doing tonight? Jimin is having a small party and was super excited when I told him you moved back."

You narrowed your eyes, your lips thinned. "What are we? In high school again?"

"Come on, babe. It'll be just like old times. I'll even pick you up. I know you hate driving."

It's only been a week since you've moved back. You didn't even know where all of your cute clothes were. "I have nothing to wear." It was the best excuse you could come up with at the moment.

"I got you. Don't worry about it!"

Fuck—you should've opted for a different excuse.

"I thought you said this was a small party," you said, wearing a dress that was barely covering your ass. You'd get Lana back for putting you in the tightest dress.

"Trust me, this is small." Lana hooked her arm with yours, dragging you to the kitchen, where Jimin poured several soju bottles and sodas into a pitcher. It was quite the concoction.

“How can he afford this place?” you whispered as you stared at the fancy marbled island and large commercial refrigerator.

Lana shrugged. “I don’t think he lives by himself. Probably has roommates or something.”

"Ladies! You're here!" Jimin squealed, setting down the soju bottle. He hugged Lana before greeting you warmly. "Oh—it's so good to see you!" He wrapped his arms around you, moving you from side to side, digging his chin into your shoulder.

"It's good to see you too, Jimin. You're, um, still quite the host." His parties were all the rage in high school, and now that you look back, you're unsure what you saw in Jimin. He was a good guy, a great dancer, but he partied too much for your taste. Maybe you were shallow and just liked him for his looks.

"I have a reputation to uphold." He wiggled his eyebrows, handing you a shot glass. "I call this little drink 'Soju Sunrise.'" He held his glass, waiting for you to clink it against his.

"Here goes nothing." The glasses clack together, and the mixed liquids go down your throat as smooth as silk. Surprisingly, the cocktail is rather tasty, and you hold out your glass for another round.

"Yes! That's my girl!"

After multiple rounds of Jimin's Soju Sunrise, your body loosened up along with your tongue, being quite the chatterbox to everyone hanging around. The alcohol coursing through your veins made catching up with old friends less dull. Though you wish you could've had a sign plastered to you stating your job, why you were back, and what you've been up to. It would've made your life simpler.

As you exited the bathroom, Lana immediately pulled you into an empty bedroom, closing the door behind her.

"What the fuck, Lana?"

"He's here!" she exclaimed out of breath.

"Who?" Confusion sets on your face.

“He-who-must-not-be-named!”

"Voldemort?" You raised a brow, pouting your lips together.

She struck your head. You scowled, rubbing the spot. Still confused, you think back to the crowded room.

A lightbulb finally goes off. You blame the Soju Sunrise for making you an airhead. "You've got to be kidding me."

"She's here too."

Oh, how you'd rather be clawing your eyes out right now. It would hurt less than facing Jungkook and Josie after all these years.

You had your little monologue prepared and ready to go, but you didn't think you'd have to recite it. Did you even remember what you wanted to say?

You looked around the room and sprinted when you saw a window. Your hands fumbled with the lock, but it was too hard to open.

"What are you doing?" Lana asked, her eyebrows knitted together, watching you struggle.

"I'm gonna climb out the window." It was the only sensible thing to do.

"You're so fucking dramatic."

"It's the only way to avoid them."

Lana grabbed your arms and made you look at her. "You are a grown-ass woman. Put on your big girl panties and walk out that door with your head held high."

"But I don't wanna," you pout. "And I'm wearing granny panties." You lowered your head, staring at your dress, picturing the blush-colored panties with a little bow on the front.

"Granny panties with this dress?"

"What? I couldn't find other ones and I like full coverage." Curse you for not unpacking like you should've been doing.

"Would've been better if you went commando."

"Lana! I have some dignity."

"Do you, though? You won't even leave this room and face the one person who broke your heart."

"Thanks, Lana," you said flatly.

"You're welcome!" she smiled, shaking your body. "Come on. You can do this. I believe in you." You rolled your eyes, staring blankly at her. She scanned you from head to toe, then back up to your chest. "Sweetie, we gotta make sure your tits are stunning." She dragged down the top of the dress, ensuring the swells of your breasts were peeking through.

"Lana, I'm not trying to seduce the guy." Okay—maybe you developed a crush on him, but it's not like you were going to make a move, he had a girlfriend for fuck’s sake.

"Yeah, who cares? We're trying to make Josie jealous."

"This is so high school," you comment, digging through your purse for your lipstick.

"Your point is?" Lana blinked.

You huffed. Okay—fine. If this were the only time you'd see Jeon Jungkook and Kim Josie, then fuck it. You could pretend everything was great for five minutes. Your hand went underneath your dress, tugging off your granny panties and tossing them on the ground.

"Holy shit—going commando too?" Lana squealed and clapped excitedly.

Hiking your dress up just a smidge, you were ready to smile and lie through whatever this dreaded conversation would bring up, probably old feelings of hurt and regret.

You hooked your arm through Lana's, with your shoulders back and head held high. This was it. After all this time, you would face the son-of-a-bitch who broke your heart and the cruel witch who took him away.

You had class—at least, you hoped you did. So, you'd play it cool, be calm and collected. Pretend like you had your shit together.

That is until you turned the corner and immediately spotted them snuggled up in the corner. Josie looked like a lovesick puppy all over him. Jungkook, not so much.

You clutched Lana's arm tighter and came to a halt. You repeated your short monologue in your brain from the bedroom to the living room, but it was as if your mind had wiped everything and your brain's connectors were short-circuiting.

Your eyes glistened as you watched the two. Josie sat on his lap, arms wrapped around his neck, kissing him. Your lower lip quivered, and your stomach sank. You weren't sure if you needed to hurl because of them or because of the soju. Perhaps both.

Jungkook pulled away from her grasp, seemingly annoyed by her show of affection. As soon as he turned away from her, his eyes landed on you.

You flashed a small smile and a wave of your hand. Who knew seeing Jungkook would make you feel the complete opposite of the narrative you had created? In your head, he was a heartless best friend who left you for a wicked witch, but here he was in the flesh and was just that big-nosed, doe-eyed boy whom you shared everything with. You missed him so much and wanted to catch up on life like no time had passed.

Lana turned to you. "Hey, what happened to the bad bitch persona? Aren't you gonna tell him off?"

"I'm so stupid, Lana. I can't do this." So much anger had been building up within the last seven years, but underneath that anger was just a girl who was heartbroken.

Lana nudged you in the ribs. You two watched as he pushed Josie off his lap, causing her to frown. You attempted to let go, but she pulled you in as Jungkook beelined toward you.

"Oh, my god! Jeon Jungkook in the flesh?" Lana said in a dramatic tone. "You do exist! I can't believe it. Well, I'm going to find myself another drink! Have fun catching up with your bestie!" She punched Jungkook's shoulder hard, and he scowled and flinched, massaging the spot.

You pressed your lips together, unsure what to say to him. It's been seven years since you last saw him. Once you graduated from high school, you were out of each other's hair. You were off to college a few hours away, and he stayed in town to attend a local university.

Jungkook cut off all forms of communication. It was like your friendship ceased to exist, which hurt you the most. The last thing you received from him was a measly little letter explaining that he was with Josie and that she didn't want you coming in between their relationship.

You couldn't understand why Jungkook couldn't just talk to you. Josie was never mentioned in conversations, nor did you see him with her, so it felt out of left field. If Jungkook told you he liked someone, you'd never stand in the way of his happiness. You thought he knew you better than that, but maybe you were wrong. Maybe you didn't know each other at all.

"I thought I'd never see you again," Jungkook said, the corners of his mouth curving into a warm smile.

You only paid attention to the glow-up Jungkook had. He did get the lip piercings he wanted, along with the tattoos. You could see them peeking through underneath his gray hoodie hanging off his shoulder. The white tank top defined his taut chest, letting you know he liked to work out. His damp hair curled in all the right places against the nape of his neck and his forehead. The silver chain adorning his neck looked pretty enough to tug on.

"You look great, by the way," Jungkook added, breaking you out of your daze.

"Oh, thanks. So do you." You manage to squeak out finally; then you remember how provocative you looked in your dress compared to sweet, innocent, looking Josie in her pink floral sundress, who was making their way toward you.

"Jungkook, can we please get a drink?" Josie whined, giving you the once over before latching onto Jungkook like the leech she was.

"You remember—"

Josie interrupted, "Yeah–don't remind me. Can we go?"

Josie stormed off toward the kitchen, leaving you and Jungkook behind. Did he have any say in their relationship, or did she tug him around like a puppy on a short leash?

You're stunned but not surprised by her remark. Once a bitch, always a bitch.

Turning your attention back to him, you realize you have nothing to say. The scars from this friendship were carved deeply into your heart; not even the monologue you rehearsed could dissipate the pain he caused.

"I—I gotta go," you said, taking off toward the bedroom because you couldn't fucking leave your underwear on a random stranger's floor. You had to save whatever dignity you had left.

"Wait—" He tried to grab your attention and followed you, walking through the hallway toward a room. He watched you go from one end of the room to the other, searching for something. "What are you doing in my room?"

You straighten your posture, slowly turning to him. "This is your room?"

"Yeah, Jimin and I share this place along with another friend.”

Oh, now you were going to fucking kill Lana. She knew. She must have! That's why she wanted to bring you here. And out of all the rooms, you had to pick Jeon Jungkook’s to leave your underwear in?

"Great," you said in exasperation. You turned back around in search of your panties. "Where the fuck is it?" It could only be in so many places.

"Where's what?"

You got down on your hands and knees, tugging your dress down, looking underneath the bed for your granny panties. "Nothing," you grumbled. "Fuck it. Forget it." You stood, walking past Jungkook. He could have your underwear as a keepsake, you suppose.

"Hey—" He gripped your arm. "Come on. This is how you greet me after all this time?"

You scoffed, glaring at him. "You're fucking kidding me, right? You're lucky I'm even speaking to you. You don't even deserve that."

He lets go of your arm. "We kind of ended on a sour note, but it wasn't my fault."

He couldn't see it, but smoke was fuming from your ears, and you wished your death glare could burn through him and maybe even through Josie. How fucking dare he put all the blame on you? And for what exactly? You might add that you did nothing but be his friend, and he ghosted you like you meant nothing to him.

"So it's my fault?" You assumed he was placing the blame on you. "How is it my fault? Please enlighten me, Jungkook."

He quieted down, cowering his head.

"You showed up holding hands with Josie, then proceeded to not talk to me like a human being and instead wrote me a fucking letter like the coward you are. A letter, for fucks sake. You could've had the common decency to say it to my face."

You walked out of language class, and there they were, hand in hand as you idly watched from behind. And he didn’t even hand you the letter. He had stuffed it in your locker.

Your words took him aback. His recount of how everything went down was different from yours. "I'm sorry," he said. His eyes flicked to yours before looking away.

"Well, it's too fucking late for apologies."

Jungkook called out to you, and you didn't look back, storming away from him. You passed by Lana, telling her you were leaving and that you'd talk to her later.

You ran out the front door, stopping at the sidewalk's edge, remembering that Lana drove. "Fuck," you grumbled, pulling out your phone to grab an Uber.

You were stupid to think Jeon Jungkook wouldn't affect you after all these years. Maybe it's because you haven't dealt with feeling abandoned by him. Maybe you wished you did more for your friendship. Whatever the reason, you knew moving back wasn't a good idea because you’d have to deal with this.

"Hey!" Jungkook called out. You looked over your shoulder and continued walking. He ran in front of you to grab your attention. "Can you talk to me?" he asked, stuffing his hands in the pocket of his hoodie.

"Why don't you fucking write me a letter? Since you're so good at that," you mocked as you shuffled around him. He was a shitty writer who could barely pass Creative Writing without your help.

"That's not fair."

You scoffed, stopping in your tracks to turn back to him. "Run back to your little girlfriend. Don’t you have to get her approval first before talking to me?"

"She's not my girlfriend."

You tut. "Yeah–okay." That was hard to believe, considering she was all over him.

"She's not. We haven't been together for a while now," Jungkook explained.

"You looked pretty cozy earlier."

Jungkook looks at the ground, kicking around an invisible rock. "It's complicated."

"That's great, Jungkook, but I really don't want to hear about your relationship problems. Good luck with Josie and in life. You two deserve each other." You pulled out your phone to see if the Uber was arriving.

Crossing your arms, you walked back toward Jimin's place. You wish you pinned the pick-up location somewhere else, but you'd have to endure his presence longer.

Jungkook followed, giving you some space, stopping when you did. His eyes raked over you. His dimple appeared and disappeared as he licked his lips and chewed on the inside of his cheek.

"When you got your acceptance letter to college, and you decided you were leaving, you didn't bother to ask about what I thought," he said, hands still in his pocket, staring at the ground. Your eyes flickered to him before looking away. He softly chuckled, "I thought to myself, what would I do without my best friend? I had nothing going for me, didn't even know what I wanted to do—still don't know what I want to do. And as much as you make me out to be the bad guy in your story, there are a lot of things you don't know."

You turned away from him as your eyes began to well up. You didn't want to cry before him, rehashing things from so long ago. You let out a shaky breath, trying to contain your emotions.

"Why didn't you say anything?" you asked, using the back of your hand to wipe away the snot threatening to fall.

He shrugged. "I don't know. I would never want to keep you from something that made you happy," he admitted.

You were always open with each other, so you're unsure why this one thing made it seem like he couldn't be honest with you.

"Tell me one thing."

Jungkook hummed.

"Why didn't you tell me about Josie?" It was the one question that lingered since you received his letter.

His lips thinned. "Honestly?" You nodded. "It all happened so quickly. Jimin was throwing a party that night when you told me about going off to college, and I was in my head, overthinking everything. And Josie was there, being sweet and comforting me, and I don't know what came over me. I just kissed her to make myself feel better. Then, the next day at school, she took my hand and told everyone we were together."

"So, let me get this straight? I told you I'm going off to college. You get upset, kiss Josie because you were mad about me leaving, and then end up in a relationship with her?"

"Well, when you put it that way, it sounds ridiculous."

You turned to him, hitting him across the chest several times. He held his hands up to block you. "Because Jeon Jungkook, it is ridiculous! God–you're such—a—" you groaned. "Do you know how much you hurt me? We could've avoided all this if you had just talked to me. Life could've been different for us. You could've come with me, and then we could've been together."

"Together?" He stared at you with his starry brown eyes.

"Yes, you dummy! I liked you, if you couldn't tell. I was going to tell you, but then you and Josie happened, and well, you know how the rest of the story goes."

You closed your eyes and let out a long-awaited breath. It felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders, getting all this out in the open. You weren't expecting Jungkook to do anything to make you feel better, but at least he could hear what you wanted to say after all these years.

Your uber pulled up and you opened the door, holding onto it as you looked at Jungkook. A glimpse of the boy you once knew still lingered in his eyes. If you could go back and do it all over again, you would've fought harder for him, fought for what the two of you had. It was too precious of a friendship to let go just like that. Unfortunately, life didn't work that way.

There were no forms of time travel or alternate dimensions where the two of you could've lived happily ever after, and there were only the choices you made here and now.

"Bye, Jungkook."

✨ read part two | read part three ✨

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts x you #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios

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bluecollarmcandtf · 5 months

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Cash Slave, reporting in...

Good morning, master. State Trooper Hernandez reporting!

I hope you're doing well since the last time we saw each other. Again, I can't apologize enough for pulling you over on the highway. I had no idea you were such an amazing hypnotist. Thank you again for letting me get off easy and only making me taze myself twice! I was paralyzed in that muddy ditch for awhile, but you could've given me a helluva worse punishment!

Your instructions aren't negotiable, so I made sure to snap a photo before I started my shift today. As you suggested, I've been eating a box of donuts every morning, and I've packed on a hefty 30 lbs since I've started. My wife has complained, but I know you want me to look more like a cliche of law enforcement!

I'll stop by your house to drop off my paycheck tonight after work. I won't forget to pick up some pizza for you and your friends on the way: extra sausage, just like you said!

See you tonight, master!

Hello sir.

It's been a week since you came into my shop, and I've followed everything you said. I didn't agree with it at first, but you convinced me with that little pendant.

You were right! I really am beneath powerful men like you. Filthy blue-collar workers aren't worthy to lick the dirt off your shoes. You were right to point that out, and you were right to tell me to embrace it. When the world looks at me, they shouldn't see a man. They should see a grease monkey at the bottom of society.

That's why I haven't showered or changed in seven days. My BO is uncomfortable to work in, but I know it's just a reminder of what I am. I used to be proud of my job. Ha! I used to look down on suits like you, but I'm nothing in comparison; just a tool at your disposal.

Anyways, I cleaned and waxed your old car as fast as I could. I know I lent you my convertible, but you're welcome to keep it. I put a lot of sweat and blood in fixing her up, but like you said, fancy cars are meant for you to drive and me to maintain.

Stop back in my garage anytime. White-collar men like you get free service here! It's not the place of any lowly laborer to get in the way of what you want.

Thank you again, sir.

Hello boss.

Just started another long day of window washing! It's another hot one, but I'll keep my head down and sweat through it like usual.

I've gotta say, it's days like this that make me miss the comforts of my old corporate desk job. I'd kill for some AC right now, but I remember how much you made me realize I hated that career. Like you said, I'm much better suited to a life of mindless cleaning.

It turns out you're the real one with a knack for business strategy because all of your advice has been genius! The income is dependent on the hours I put in, and since I'm working for half the price of all competitors, I've gotten a monopoly on the market! I've fully booked all seven days for the next five or so weeks, so I'll be washing windows non-stop!

The business is already booming! I've been billing customers to your bank account, so you should already see all the profit in there!

Later today, I'll make a note of the minimum I need to replenish the cleaning supplies I'm running through. I'd also be grateful if you loaned me a bit for personal use, but it's understandable if you can't spare any! We agreed that I wasn't working for a salary, and I'm fine with that! I've been sleeping in the company van the last few weeks and it's more than good enough for me!

Don't worry, boss. I'll get back to work!

Tell my wife hello for me, master!

Working on a rig has been isolating. The job is brutal, the days are long, and every night I head back to our bunks covered in oil. I thought I'd at least get to bond with the other guys, but most of us are too tired to do anything but eat and sleep after our shift.

The only thing that's getting me through it is thinking about you. I know I also have a girl at home, but you were the one that gave my life purpose. I was never going to make money as an actor, and you helped me see that! You were the one that convinced me to go for this ridiculous job in the middle of the ocean, and now I'm making a ton of money!

You deserve it all.

I wouldn't have seen any of this cash if I hadn't stuck around after your stage hypnosis show. I still remember the wild look in your eyes when you came up with this idea for me. I also remember that hungry look you had when you saw my wife. It was impossible to say no.

Oh, and thanks for keeping my wife company while I'm gone. A man like you deserves her attention more than I do. Like you said, I doubt I was pleasing her to begin with. The only thing I'm good for is earning money, and I hope you're enjoying it because it sure isn't easy to earn!

I gotta get back, but I wanted to let you know that I signed up for another six months like you suggested. It's lonely, but I'm happy to do it, master!

Son, or should I still call you 'sir'?

I'm not sure if I your new title applies through text as well? Being your dad and your servant can be a bit confusing, but I don't mean disrespect you! Just let me know.

My workout is done and I'm headed back to your house. I signed the deed over to you this morning, so you officially own it now! Like usual, I'll clean the place from top to bottom. I've got all the mops and cleaning supplies in my van and ready to go. Since it's Friday, I'll start on the weekly yard work; mowing, weeding, etc... I don't want to bore you with the details, but it'll take the majority of the day to keep your place in tip top shape!

As I understand it, you are having friends over tonight, so I'll prepare a three course meal for eight. I ironed my apron this morning so I should look like a more presentable waiter than last night when I served your food!

As always, please let me know if there's any other way I can be of service today or tonight.

I'll be awaiting your return, sir.

Hey little bro,

I just finished my workout at the gym with dad. We're both hitting PRs and we're really starting to see some results! Still can't believe you hypnotized his dumb ass to think he's your butler! That man looks so stupid changing from gym clothes into a bowtie and gloves. He's constantly calling you 'sir' too, even when you're not around.

He's such an idiot.

Anyways, I'm all dressed and ready for my new job. You were totally right. I'm going to be so much happier as a clown instead of a wrestler. I'm about to head out to my first gig; a ten year old's birthday party. I think he's the kid of someone I used to compete with. It might be a little awkward, but it won't affect my routine. I've got an afternoon of pies in the face and self-deprecating humor ahead of me.

I made sure to tell the guy who hired me that I'm willing to stay after and clean up. Kids make a huge mess after all. I just hope he won't be too weird about me being a clown at his son's party. We may have been rivals in the past, but that was back when I wrestled. Now I'm just a joke for hire. He's technically my boss for the day, so I'll have to get used to taking orders from him.

Wish me luck, bro. I'll give you the money after the dad dismisses me. Let's hope I make a good clown!

#mind control #gay hypnosis #hypno story #gay ai art #hypnotized #servant

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knight-of-flowerss · 1 month

Text

BIRTHDAY PRESENT

MODERN!BOXER!BENJICOT 'DAVOS' BLACKWOOD x READER

Masterlist

Smut! MDNI! 18+!

Synopsis: Daughter of a famous boxer, a spoiled little princess, but also one who cares for her family. When your brother gets beaten to a pulp by an underground beast of a boxer, your father takes him under his wing. Now you have to deal with him.

Note: am I supposed to be writing three other fics atm? Yes. Yes I am. Did I write this in the spur of the moment cause it sounded like an amazing fic? Yes. Yes I did.😋 also I used Y/N twice (js a warning lol)

Tags: @thethreeeyed-raven @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom @hardkiddonut

Your bother was a boxer. A shit one but still a boxer. Your dad is one too, a legendary one. The great Duke Miller. Your brother, Scotty Miller, is due to be his 'prodigy', he's hoping.

Duke has high standards for Scotty, he wishes for him to be like how he was. But he's a screw up, he hates boxing and he'd rather play football rather than train.

Duke started him off in underground fights, trying to toughen him up. It'd been a few months and he'd gotten a bit better so Duke decided to put him in a match with one of the best fighters in that shitty, underground boxing world.

Benjicot 'Bloody Ben' Blackwood.

He's dangerous, always beating his opponents basically to a pulp. As soon as he stepped into that ring, he was an animal.

And that's what happened, he beat Scotty to a pulp, nearly killing him. You were furious, watching your brother get repeatedly punched as he lay their helplessly, brutality always did make the crowd go wild.

Scotty is taken away on a stretcher, to the hospital. Rage blinds you as you storm over to Benjicot's changing room, opening and slamming the door.

He's half dressed and you're seething with anger. Are you seriously going to stand up to this very violent boxer? Yes, yes you are apparently.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?! You nearly killed my fucking brother!" You shout at him. Ben turns around, only just now noticing you're here.

His eyes rake up and down your body, taking in the heels, short dress and perfectly manicured nails. His lips curl up into a smirk as he leans against the lockers, his arms crossing across his bare chest. "He was too weak. He deserved it."

Was your brother weak? Yes, yes he was. Are you going to let this man know that you agree with him? No. No the fuck you aren't. "Too weak?! So since he's too weak, you just thought you'd kill him?! Is that it?!"

He shrugs and his smirk widens. He pushes off the lockers and stands straight. "His own fucking fault. He shouldn't have signed up to fight me. You must be his little sister then?"

"Yeah! I am! And it wasn't him who signed up for the match! It was our dad! Just 'cause you think you're some big man doesn't mean you have to nearly kill him!" You screech, the sound echoing off the walls.

He approaches you slowly, stopping just in front of you, towering over you. He takes you in once more, his gaze raking over you. Taking you all in, a shiver going down his spine.

"Your daddy should know better than to throw your older brother to me. What's your name then?" You glare up at him as he smirks down at you. "My name's y/n, but I don't care about that. You're gonna pay for his hospital bills."

He hums, "y/n huh? Cute, like you." His smirk morphs into a teasing grin, "and pay his hospital bills? How are you going to make me do that, Darlin'?"

"You're gonna pay it with the money you won." He laughs at that, gripping your chin and tilting your head up. "Is that so? You think you can just waltz in here and demand money from me, huh? And what if I don't wanna give you a single penny, Darlin'? What then?"

You smack his hand away, "it doesn't matter if you don't want to! You nearly fucking killed him! It's the bare minimum!"

He laughs again, reaching out and tugging you towards him, his big, calloused hands gripping your hips. "How do I know you care about your older brother? How do I know you aren't just trying to swindle me out of my hard-earned cash?" He grins, a shit-eating grin.

You push him away, your manicured nails slightly digging into his bare chest, "Because I was the one who told him not to fight! I love my brother and you are the fucker who nearly killed him! You're gonna pay for it!"

He lets out an exasperated sigh, rolling his eyes at you. He leans forward, his arms coming up to box you in on a nearby locker. "And how are you going to stop me from walking away, huh? Sweet little thing like you. Who's gonna make me pay, huh?"

"I'm gonna make you pay. Or they are." You nod your head at the two men at the door, your body guards. They follow you practically everywhere since your dad is a legendary boxer back in his day and his brother being his 'prodigy son', that's what the press calls him, bar him being a shite boxer.

He follows your gaze over to the two bodyguards, eyeing them both up for a few seconds before a loud, barking laugh leaves his lips. His attention drifts back to you. "Yeah? You think those big guys are going to make me pay up, eh? Just because your daddy used to be this big, famous boxer doesn't mean your bodyguard’s intimidate me darlin'."

"Oh, so you think you can beat them black and blue like you did Scotty?" He laughs again, a barking sound that seems to echo. He grins down at you, his voice now taking on a lower, more serious tone.

"You think I’d let those two goons over there even touch me? I'd knock them both out with a single punch, then what're you gonna do darlin'?" His tongue darts out to lick at his lips before grinning.

"You won't knock them out." You spit out. He smirks, leaning in closer so your faces are mere inches apart. “You doubting my boxing skills? I'm offended, darlin'. You just saw what I can do. I'd beat those big guys into the ground, without even breaking a sweat."

You cross your arms over your chest, "Go on then."

He laughs again, a loud and arrogant sound, he pushes away from the wall, "You sure you want me to kick your goons arses? Won't you be embarrassed about my beating them so badly?" You give him a dirty look, looking him up and down, "Like you could."

He grins as he stops in front of your big bodyguards. He looks up at the two big men, an arrogant smirk plastered on his face as he gives them a cocky wave. "Hey there boys, fancy a little sparring session? Just a fun little warmup before I fight again tomorrow."

The bodyguards exchange a look before the first one cracks his knuckles, his eyes never leaving Ben. "Sure pal, why not?"

You stay a little behind, watching everything happen. One of the bodyguards swings a punch at Ben's face, but he ducks to the side at the last moment and it misses, he laughs as he straightens up and shakes his head. "Is that the best you've got? Seriously?"

The bodyguards both charge forward at the same time now, fists flying. But he's too quick, he dodges every punch, his movements smooth and agile. He laughs again and smirks at them. "You call yourselves bodyguards? You're about as strong as a wet noodle."

The bodyguards are getting frustrated now, one of them tries a kick aimed at his stomach, but he grabs the man's leg and swings him around, sending him flying into the other bodyguard and knocking them both to the ground. He stands over them, still laughing, his hands on his hips as he looks to you. "You still doubting me, darlin'?"

You glare at him, "You said you could knock them out, you haven't knocked them out yet." He laughs again as he looks down at the two men who are now both getting to their feet. He's having the time of his life. "I'm getting there sweetheart, I'm getting there. Just didn't want it to be too quick and easy."

The bodyguards charge at him again, but he's still too quick, he ducks and weaves through their punches, countering with jabs of his own. He's like lightning, moving around the room with dizzying speed.

The bodyguards are getting tired now, their movements slowing down as they wear themselves out. But he's nowhere near tired at all, he's enjoying himself too much. "Come on guys, is that all you got? This is embarrassing, honestly."

The bodyguards exchange a look, they're both exhausted now, their faces red, their breathing ragged. They're done for. But it doesn't even look like Benji has broken a sweat.

He grins as he steps over to them, towering over the two big men, his hands on his hips as he looks down at them. "Have you boys had enough yet?"

They both nod, still trying to catch their breaths. There is no way they could keep up with him. He laughs again, that same loud, barking sound, and turns to look back at you. "There, I told you I'd knock their asses to the ground. You doubt me again princess?"

"Are both of you fucking serious?! You're both fucking pathetic!-" You hear someone clearing their throat at the door, you turn to look at them. "Daddy..", Your father was at the door. A former legendary boxer, still big and hench, in his fifties, bordering sixties. He's still got his muscles and the brooding glare.

Benji's smirk slips a little, his eyes going wide at the sight of your father, the famous, legendary boxer, Duke Miller. This was not the man he wanted to meet right now. Well, he would love to meet him, but right now when he's knocking his daughter's bodyguard's on their arses? Nope. He slowly steps back and stands up straight, he's still taller than your dad, but that didn't matter, everyone knew that this man was not to be trifled with.

Your dad doesn't speak, merely looks him up and down and grumbles. "You're that Bloody Ben bloke arnt you, huh?" Benjicot swallows, his hands shifting from his hips to stuffing themselves into the pockets of his trousers. "Yes sir. That's me."

Your dad walks further into the room, taking in the sight of his two bodyguards sitting on the floor, before his steely gaze drifts back onto Ben, he looks him up and down for a few moments before grumbling again. "What're you doing talking to my daughter?"

Ben glances quickly at you before looking back at your father, trying to keep his cool, though he can feel himself starting to sweat under the pressure of being eyeballed by your dad. He shrugs his shoulders and responds with a slight stutter. "She uh, she came to see me, sir… after the fight."

Your dad narrows his eyes, the intense glare not faltering for a second as he steps further into the room, moving closer to Ben, his expression stern and intimidating. "Why'd she come to see you huh? You beat her brother good. What she want from you?"

Ben swallows again, his hands gripping a little tighter in his pockets, though his lips still quirk upwards into a cheeky half-smirk. He looks past your dad and meets your gaze for just a moment, before his eyes flicks back to your dad again. "She came to demand I pay hospital bills, sir."

Your dad scoffs a little at that, his eyes flickering over to you, before he fixes Ben with his hard stare again. "Hospital bills huh? Yeah she's a good kid, always making sure that brother of hers is okay. Always looking out for people." He steps closer still, his face so close to Ben that he's practically breathing down his neck, his voice dangerously low. "I take it you told her you ain’t paying?"

Ben swallows again, his gaze shifting to the floor, the smirk slipping from his face as he suddenly feels much smaller and insecure under your dad's gaze and proximity. He nods faintly once, not trusting himself to speak without stuttering right now.

Your dad chuckles slightly at that, a low and gruff sound, as he steps back and crosses his arms over his chest, still looking at Ben. "Is that right? You’re saying no to us, huh?” He raises an eyebrow as he waits for a response, the look on his face making it very clear he's not to be trifled with or defied.

Ben slowly raises his gaze, meeting your dad's eyes now, his bravado starting to return as he straightens up slightly and speaks up. "Yeah, I am. Why should I pay hospital bills for some guy who I beat up in a fight when it's literally our jobs."

Your dad keeps his brooding face on before bursting out in a boisterous chuckle, "Fair enough lad." You look at your dad with a shocked face, you can't believe he's not shouting at him by now.

Your dad chuckles again and shakes his head as he moves over to the two bodyguards, still sitting on the floor, and reaches down to pull the first one to his feet, who wobbles slightly but ultimately stands up on steady legs. He pats him on the shoulder before he nods to the second one, who stands up but still looks a little shaky. "You two go stand out in the hallway. Make sure we're undisturbed." They both nod and leave the room, glancing warily and warily at Ben as they do.

Ben watches them go, his eyes following the two bodyguards, before slowly drifting back to your dad, who is now standing in front of him again, his arms crossed over his giant chest and his feet planted firmly on the floor, like an intimidating sentinel.

Your dad glares at him for a few moments, his expression stern, before he slowly starts to speak again, his voice low and firm. "Let me tell you something, kid. You got a reputation for being tough, for winning fights and being a damn good boxer. But I'm not afraid of you. Don't think for a second that I wouldn't lay you out flat if I had to. Understand?"

Ben swallows again, his bravado shrinking down under your dad's harsh words and terrifying presence. His shoulders slumped slightly and he mutters. "Yes sir, I understand."

Your Dad nods, seemingly satisfied in knowing that he's got Ben feeling small and scared. He steps back, putting a little distance between them before speaking again, his voice a little less intimidating now, but no less firm and authoritative. "Good. Now, I'm going to talk with my daughter. Alone. You sit down. And you don't move a muscle till one of us tells you to, you hear?"

Ben nods again and mutters another 'yes sir' before he quickly turns and heads over to a chair in the corner of the room, sitting down on it quickly, like an obedient schoolboy.

Your dad makes a satisfied grunt as he watches Ben sit down, his gaze lingering on him for a few more moments, before he looks at you, jerking his head towards the door. "Pumpkin, come with me. We need to talk."

You nod and follow him out of the room, glancing back towards Ben one more time, he glances up and meets your eyes but looks away quickly, staring down at his hands awkwardly instead, looking like a scolded child sitting in the corner.

Once you're both out in the hallway, your dad speaks again. "What're you doing talking to that kid, Pumpkin?" You look up at your father, "He has to play Scottys bills daddy. Just because you think he's a good boxer and you wanna 'take him under your wing' doesn't mean he gets to beat up your son."

Your dad scoffs and mutters something under his breath as he shakes his head, still looking a mixture of annoyed at your insistence. "You're too soft, Pumpkin. Kid has skills, he's got potential. I think I can train him, mentor him, groom him. He could be something special."

"But.. but he hurt Scotty, daddy!" You plead with your father. Your dad sighs and looks at you, his gaze softening a little as he takes in your concern for your brother, though his tone remains firm. "It's just a couple of broken bones sweetheart. Scotty'll be fine. Kids get hurt in boxing. It's part of the game. You gotta toughen up a little, stop being so soft."

I pout. Am I a spoiled princess? Yes, yes I am. Do I get worried about my brother and my dad revolving around fights? Yes, yes I do. That's why I'm so adamant that this fucker pays.

Your dad chuckles slightly when he sees your pout, his expression softening even more. He has a soft spot for you, always has. "You're just like your momma. Always getting worked up at the slightest bit of injuries. She was soft just like you."

I nibble at my bottom lip slightly, "I miss momma. She would agree with me. It's not smart to take that.. savage… under your wing daddy."

Your dad sighs at that, his smile slipping as he's reminded of the past. He shakes his head slightly before he speaks, "Your momma would most likely not approve, you're right. But she's not here anymore. I'm the one looking out for you two now. And I say that kid has potential. I think it'd be a waste to let him carry on fighting in those crappy little underground clubs. I could help him become great, get him into professional fights."

You roll your eyes, done with this stupid conversation, "whatever, I'm gonna go visit Scotty." Your dad nods and pats you on the shoulder. "You do that sweet'eart. I'm gonna stay here and have a chat with that kid for a while. But you go see your brother, I'm sure he'd love a visit from you."

I walk away, going to the hired car for you to go to the hospital, leaving your dad.

Your dad watches you go, his expression soft for a moment before he turns back to the room, pausing outside the door to take a deep breath before he goes in.

Benji is still sitting in the chair, looking up when the door opens. He can see the intensity in your dad's eyes and suddenly feels a wave of nervousness again as your dad approaches him.

Your dad stands over him for a few seconds, not saying anything, just looking down at him. Ben tries to smile to cover up for his nervousness but it comes across as an awkward grimace on his face instead.

Your dad just grunts and motions to the chair next to Ben. "Move owa." Ben quickly scrambles to move a little further down the chair, and your dad sits down next to him, his legs spread out wide and his bulk taking up more than half the chair.

Your dad turns to look at him, his gaze hard and unwavering, it makes Ben shrink a little in the chair. "So, kid, I hear you beat my boy Scotty good huh?"

Ben swallows and nods faintly, his fingers gripping the arms of the chair slightly as he tries not to show how intimidated he feels right now by your dad.

Your dad lets out a gruff chuckle and shakes his head slightly. "You're a crazy bastard, I'll give you that. He's my kid and I love him, but Scotty never was the brightest or the toughest. I'm not surprised you managed to lay him flat like that."

Ben chuckles a little, relaxing slightly and feeling a little more confident. He likes how your dad is treating him casually, instead of like a kid, the way you had, even though he's older than you. "He was sloppy. Put up a pretty pathetic attempt of a fight. It was hard to even take it seriously, if I'm honest."

Your dad lets out another laugh at that, this one a little louder. "Yeah, Scotty's never been the best at fighting. He's always been a bit of a mummy's boy that one. Never been one for roughhousing. Was always more interested in playing sports than fighting."

Ben nods in agreement and relaxes further into the chair, starting to enjoy the conversation with your dad now, instead of feeling like he's being interrogated. He's smiling now, the same cocky smile he usually has. "Yeah, he spent more time on his football kick than on punch training, I could tell from his form as soon as the fight started."

Your dad chuckles again and nods. "Yeah yeah, that sounds like Scotty alright. Always a mamma's boy, that one. I've tried my damndest to get him to toughen up, to actually learn how to fight instead of relying on being quick or agile. But every time I tried to get him to come to the gym with me, all he wanted to do was kick a bloody ball."

Ben laughs at that, shaking his head at the thought of Scotty being anything but a fighter. "He's damn lucky he never came up against a proper fighter then or he'd be hurt a lot more than a couple of broken bones."

Your dad laughs loudly at that and shakes his head, seemingly amused by the thought of Scotty getting hurt worse than a few broken bones. "You are a real fighter son, a true one. But you're stuck in these shit-tip underground fights."

Your dad grins at that and claps a hand down on Ben's shoulder. "That's what I'm hoping to change. You got real skill kid, you've got natural talent. But you could be one of the greats if you let me train you. Help you reach your full potential."

Ben grins back at your dad, his eyes lighting up with excitement now. It was one thing to have your daughter come demanding him to give money. But having the famed former legend himself want to take him on as a mentee? That was an opportunity he was not about to refuse, even if it did mean he was stuck having to deal with your pestering.

Your dad grins as he sees the excitement and interest in Benjicot's gaze, and squeezes his shoulder. "So, what do you say kid? Will you join my private training regimen and let me help you reach the greatness I know you can achieve?"

Ben nods, not hesitating for a second at the offer. "Hell yeah I'll do it. Train with a legend? Who'd say No to that?"

Your dad grins even wider at that, laughing as he gives Ben a firm pat on the back. "That's the spirit kid. No time to spare. We start your regular training next week. Twice a week. I trust you'll be at the gym every time, no excuses. Understand?"

Ben nods again, feeling the firm slap on his back and trying not to wince as it hits his sore muscles. "I understand, sir, yeah. I'll make sure I show up. Every single session."

Your dad grins and leans back in the chair as he hears that, his hand still on Ben's shoulder. "Ah that's good news. I was hoping you'd say that. You'll stay at me mansion. Have a proper place to rest and eat before and after our training sessions. There's a gym there so that we're not driving back and forth to the boxing gyms too. You'll love it, kid."

Ben's eyes widen at that. A mansion?! That's some real top class treatment. He's never had anything close to that growing up, so he's shocked to say the least at the offer. Plus, living at a boxing legends mansion? And one as rich as your dad is? This was sounding better and better by the minute.

Your dad pats him on the shoulder again. "You'll have your own room, don't worry. Private room just for your use. Got plenty of space at the mansion, more than enough room for you to have your own space separate from our family."

Ben's mind is still boggling at the thought of having a room in your dads mansion. It's an insane deal from his point of view. Free training from one of the boxing greats and a place to live? It sounded like a dream come true. He smiles and nods again, still a little speechless.

Your dad smiles as he sees the look of disbelief on Ben's face, and can't help but laugh at his surprise. "I take it you're shocked by that, yeah? Surprised I'm giving you such special treatment and a place to live?"

Benji nods, his lips curving up into a smile despite himself. "Hell yeah, I'm surprised. I was expecting a few training sessions, but now you're telling me I'm living with you at your mansion. You don't have to do all that for me, you know. I don't deserve it."

Your dad laughs and shakes his head, waving away Benji's words. "Nonsense, kid. You've got talent. Serious talent. I'm damn near certain I can turn you into a world class fighter. It'd be a waste not to give you the best training and support to reach your full potential. I'm going to make you a damn legend."

Ben's smile somehow gets even wider at the praise and support. It feels damn good to be treated as something other than just a dumb boxer and instead, someone with actual potential. "Yeah, damn right you are. I'm gonna be the best damn fighter you've ever trained. Make you proud of having taken me on like this."

Your dad smirks and pats Benji's shoulder again, giving it a firm squeeze now. "That's what I like to hear. You have the skills, kid, I've got a lot of confidence that you're goin' places. I'm not taking on just any old guy to train. You're something special. I can see it. You're gonna have the skills and the talent to become a damn champion one day if I keep working with you."

It'd been a few months since Benjicot moved in. As you can already tell, it was a shit show. Let's just say a glass got launched in the direction of Benjicot from you, snarky comments from an injured Scotty and Rom, your little brother, silently eating while he watches and does his GCSE revision.

At every opportunity, you make his life hell. Well, inconveniencing him. Moving his boxing gloves or wrap, putting his clothes in random places, changing out his protein powder for flour. Other things too, just to piss him off, a little inconvenience in his day.

You were also rude, giving him dirty glances, mean comments, rolling your eyes at every word.

After seven months of Benjicot living with them and training with your father and brother, your birthday comes up. Nineteen. You always had wild, big parties on your birthday, this is no difference.

You're going for classy. Golds, silvers, fancy glass carved cups. It was gonna be huge.

Guests pile in, champagne getting passed around to each. After all the guests arrive, they get to mingle for a while and put the presents on the large, over-piled table.

Soon enough, you make your grand entrance. Walking down the very large staircase, clad in a black dress, short skirt at the front with a long trailing back, sliding against the floors and stairs. Your hair is lightly curled and your makeup done up. You looked almost feline.

Benjicot's standing with your brothers, watching your walk down the stairs, like a model. Long legs going down each step with cute Louis Vuitton heels.

Stepping off the stairs, people come up and wish you happy birthday. You grab a glass of champagne, sipping on it as you make your way around, mingling with friends and family.

After a while, you're a bit tipsy, taking shots with your friends and dancing on the dance floor. You stumble outside, walking to a small bench in the very large back garden, grabbing a breath of fresh air.

Ben wanders into the back garden to grab some fresh air as well. He'd had a good time partying so far but he'd needed a short break. He spots you sitting on the bench and heads over to join you. He sits on the bench next to you and looks over at you. "You enjoying your birthday so far?"

You look at him as he sits down, rolling you eyes, just your luck. "Yeah. I am."

Ben just snickers softly at your reaction to him sitting next to you. You clearly weren't too happy to see him, which amused him. "Oh, come on. Don't act too thrilled to see me, I know you're really happy I'm here…"

Ben has a cocky smirk on his face as he pokes your side gently. He hadn't seen you all night, so you getting all annoyed at him for joining you on the bench was amusing. You sigh, rolling your eyes again as you put one knee ontop of the other, resting your elbows on them.

Benji's smirk grows at the sight of you rolling your eyes yet again. He'd clearly gotten under your skin already, and it was far too easy.He glances over at you and grins before he speaks up again. "Damn, you look like you're really enjoying yourself over there."

One of his eyebrows raise slightly as you reposition your legs. You were acting just as he had imagined you would, you'd clearly grown exasperated with him already, even though he'd been sitting next to you for only less than a few minutes. It was a little funny.

Benji snickers to himself. You were a hell of an easy to rile up. He could already tell he was annoying you, he was just testing your limits now. "Why the long face? We're at a birthday party… you're supposed to be having fun, birthday girl…"

"Yeah well, with the guy that battered me brother and is now me dads fucking favourite despite not being his son sitting next to me, no surprise I'm not in a good mood." You scoff.

Benjicot just smirks slightly at your response, you were clearly a little pissed off and he knew he was the cause of it. You were just so easy to rile up, all he had to do was sit next to you and you started losing your temper. He chuckles softly, tilting his head at you. "That's right… I'm the golden boy… and you're just a pain in my arse…"

He leans back against the bench and continues to smirk smugly as he glances over at you. You were glaring at him already, you must've been absolutely fuming by now, but that was exactly what he was wanting. You were very fun to wind up, he knew exactly how to get under your skin.

He couldn't help it, he was far too amused by your angered expression. He knew you were seething on the inside and he just felt like poking the bear some more. "Aw… look at your face. You're all pouty and angry… it's cute…"

You give him a disgusted look. "Just shut up. My head is banging and you’re talking too much."

Ben snickers as you give him that look. You acted so damn cute when you were annoyed, it was amusing to him. He almost couldn't resist the idea of making you even more pissed off. "Aww, is your little head hurting? Has all that dancing given you a migrane? Poor little thing…"

You glare at him. Then your mind got fuzzy, next thing you realise, your making out with him and his fingers are.. well.. inside you..

Ben's taken by surprise when you suddenly start making out with him, not that he's complaining of course… but he wasn't expecting you to kiss him out of the blue. He grins into the kiss, just going with it. He lets a finger trail along your skin before he slides his fingers between your legs.

Benjicot's enjoying this, clearly, and he's not about to stop kissing you and touching you any time soon… he knew you were a little angry before but now he had you kissing him and making out with him he just wants more.

Ben slides his tongue into your mouth, pressing himself closer to you as he starts to kiss you a little bit rougher. He's enjoying having you so close to him like this, and he can't help but want more.

You moan softly into his mouth, your legs parting more as his fingers rock inside you. Ben grins against your lips, feeling you part your legs even more for him. He loved seeing how much you wanted him, it was an ego boost. He pushes his fingers into you a bit deeper, enjoying the way you writhe for him.

Ben slides his tongue into your mouth again, trying to muffle all of those sweet sounds you make. He really was enjoying this a lot, and he wanted more… he felt his jeans start to tighten as you got a bit more handsy and started pulling his shirt up.

Benji pulls back from the kiss when he feels you start to tug at his shirt, grinning down at you. "You gonna take my shirt off, darlin'?" You moan and pant, pouting. "I.. I wanna feel you.. fuck Benji.."

Benjicot just chuckles softly, enjoying how eager you were right now. He wasn't used to you being so willing and submissive.. He grins down at you as he pulls off his shirt, revealing the lean, well-toned muscles underneath. He grins as he looks at you, just waiting to see what you would do next.

You tug him down to kiss you again, moving his hand to guide his fingers back inside you, your nails raking down his chest.

Ben grins as you pull him down to you, not even a little bit surprised that you're wanting to continue things. He moans as he starts kissing you again, and it doesn't take you long to guide his fingers back to where they had been before and he lets his fingers sink into you again. He lets out a soft groan as your hands wander down his chest.

He leans into you a bit more, enjoying the feeling of your hands running over his chest and body, and your lips on his. He's really enjoying this, and you feel so fucking good around his fingers, he's starting to strain in his jeans, and he knows he's going to need to ease the pressure and discomfort soon enough.

You grip onto his waist, your other hand in his hair as you tug on it and moan in his mouth.

Ben moans back into your mouth, loving how you're pulling his hair and gripping onto his hips, knowing how good his fingers are making you feel, how eager you are. He slides his other hand up your thigh, his hand moving higher and higher as he kisses you more roughly and you let out another quiet gasp.

His lips move from yours and start trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of hot, messy kisses against your throat as his hand on your thigh starts to push your dress up, wanting to get touch more of your skin.

He moans against your neck, his lips and teeth sucking and biting gently as he continues to kiss down your collarbone and shoulder, his hands are now grabbing your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin as he continues leaving hot, eager kisses all over your skin.

Your thighs tremble slightly, squeezing your eyes shut, biting your lip softly. The pleasure is becoming too much.

Benjicot can feel your thighs trembling in his hands and he grins against your skin, loving how you were reacting to his mouth and hands, he could tell you were getting more worked up. His lips and teeth travel back up to your neck and he starts kissing and biting at it again, leaving more marks over your skin.

"Fuck.. Ben.. 'm close.." You whimper out, trembling and writhing.

Ben feels a shiver down his spine as you let your breathless words, he can tell how close you are and he loves it, he keeps his lips against your neck, sucking and biting gently as his hands slide higher and higher up your legs. He's enjoying it too, his breathing is heavier and he's feeling a lot of pressure against his jeans, he's going to have to find a way to get some relief sooner or later.

"Oh fuck! Benji! 'M gonna cum!" He lets out a low and slightly strangled moan as he sucks a mark into your throat, feeling you getting closer and closer to release as his hands continue to move and wander over your legs. He's growing more and more desperate to have some sort of relief, it was starting to get really uncomfortable, feeling your skin against his and hearing you call out his name over and over again.

" 'm gonna cum, 'm gonna cum, 'm gonna cum.." You mumble and babble, thighs shaking. He grins against your neck as he hears your breathless words, loving the sounds of you so close to cumming, he continues to suck and bite at your throat, his breathing heavier now and feeling more strained, he needs something soon.

Benji lets a hand wander up higher, finally letting his hand grip and squeeze your thigh, wanting to touch more of your skin and hold you even closer to him. He moans against your neck as he feels himself get even more pent up and frustrated in his jeans, and he's starting to get desperate for some kind of relief and friction.

You grip his arm, acrylic nails digging into his skin, your mouth drops open into an 'O' as your thighs tremble and you cum, the waves of pleasure crashing down.

He moans into your neck, feeling you come against his fingers and he can't help but let out a slightly shaky breath as you grip onto his arm and make all those sweet sounds.

His hips twitch forward, and he lets out another shaky moan as he feels himself get even more pent up, he's struggling to keep it together.

He pulls back from your neck and letting his forehead rest against yours, his breathing still a little laboured and his jeans feeling really damn tight.

"Mmm… Benji.." You moan breathlessly. He can't help but let a shiver run down his spine as you say his name again, all breathless and weak, he's really struggling to keep himself from just shoving you back against the bench and taking what he so badly wants.

He lets out a low moan as he looks down at you, his heart racing and his head spinning a little, he needs some kind of relief, and he's struggling to keep himself together as he looks down at you, all messed up and flushed and panting a little.

Now that was one hell of a birthday present.

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